<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:09:16.364-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask me a question, I'll tell you no lies.</title><subtitle type='html'>Hell, most likely, I'll say nothing.
The path has been covered with brush.
My feet are tired of walking.
I've turned back around in search of something I know is not there.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>94</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6390593</id><published>2001-10-16T19:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-16T20:25:18.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;html&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;head&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;meta name="Author" content="David C. Lee"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="Mozilla/4.78 [en] (Win98; U) [Netscape]"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/head&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img SRC="http://vortexrides.clubdub.org/ls.gif" BORDER=0 height=150 width=150 align=CENTER&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/html&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6390593?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6390593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6390593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_14_archive.html#6390593' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6389142</id><published>2001-10-16T18:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-16T20:24:38.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;left&gt;Okay.....so it has come to my attention that my life is not my own. My Blog is now dead....and will not be updated. No emotions, no feelings, nothing. Thanks for visiting. Click the link below and you can see what the rest of my life revolves around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vortexrides.clubdub.org"&gt;Vortex Members Ride Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6389142?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6389142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6389142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_14_archive.html#6389142' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6370515</id><published>2001-10-16T00:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-16T00:02:28.330-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well.....I'm back into my senses as much as I ever was....so that's a plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want to know what scares me? My counter on this page reads over 400 hits.....and my life sucks. I fall asleep reading this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.......I would have written sooner, but I lost access to the internet for 2 days because of some dumb ass problems with RCN and the bank. I'm back. Yeah....I'm sure anyone who reads this really missed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan was home this weekend. I love that girl....but she was supposed to bring me a nice freshman. Evidently, I just missed her as Becky (her roomy, we've talked) left the day before. Ah, you know, I think I'll live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just took this personality test and it came up as me being an accountant. Did I ever mention that I hate accounting? If not, then I just did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part is this, beyond my next statements....my weekend was so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, at Rookies, with Kev and Joe, and the old phone rings. It's Paulie. So, since Kevin is getting old, we left him off and headed to Lehigh, where two out of three of my best friends were smashed. It was so much fun though. Hearing 2 drunk people and Paul, who's insane, sing Last Carress at the top of their lungs at 1:30 am on the South Side of Bethlehem is classic. No cops, no problems. Then, off to Denny's. Moons over my hammy baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday.....I thought the program sucked....but this cute little girl came up to me after I sang "The Dance" and asked if I was on Cat96. She says, "They play that song all the time and the guy on there sounds just like you." It was so cute. Anyway.......my song with my friend Mel was great. She has such a good voice, smoking and all........It was cool. From what I heard.....a lot of people were crying. I didn't think we were that bad. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di cried....as she sang. What a sap. Still, she was good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was it....work was work...and I work at 4 am this Friday...what fun. Night all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6370515?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6370515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6370515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_14_archive.html#6370515' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6296382</id><published>2001-10-12T17:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-12T17:32:38.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Still quite out of it. My head took more of a hit than I initially realized. My mind is okay, but I get quite dizzy and end up having some pretty bad headaches if and when I don't take it slow. I'm not driving right now, which sucks for me. Beyond that, there's nothing in my life worth reporting on, so anyone who actually reads this, it may be time to cancel the subscription.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6296382?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6296382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6296382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_07_archive.html#6296382' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6252641</id><published>2001-10-10T23:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-10T23:20:58.410-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>JOe: Hey Dave....jump on...I'll give you a ride.&lt;br /&gt;Dave: On the trunk?&lt;br /&gt;Joe: Yeah....&lt;br /&gt;Dave: Duh...okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two minutes later, he shifts into second and turns the corner as I fly off the back....sliding on the ground and pounding my head into the hard parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe: Are you okay...? Oh shit....&lt;br /&gt;Dave: Yeah, I'm okay, I just need.....nope, I'm not okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this time....I'm laying in the fetal position on a bed of stones......blacking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep...never ride on top of a car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6252641?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6252641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6252641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_07_archive.html#6252641' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6228335</id><published>2001-10-10T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-10T23:18:36.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And this is how my night ends.............I've got a lot of work to do with my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: Jackie.....in the long run, I do really regret anything I've done to you...not only because you're a great friend and&lt;br /&gt;I should have never done that to you, but also because I know this is not me.&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: I wish I could find myself sometime soon...life may be easier then&lt;br /&gt;MustrdPlg0: i dont know where that is coming from or why but ok&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: It's coming from me....okay...so I'm no angel....but I'm pretty sure that most of the time your general opinion of me is not one of great flattery&lt;br /&gt;MustrdPlg0: well your a guy&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: And how many times did I try and convince you that I was not that kind of guy?&lt;br /&gt;MustrdPlg0: many but you failed at it&lt;br /&gt;MustrdPlg0: it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'ts not 10 after 12 and I realize that she's not coming back and that it wasn't AOL kicking her off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read this.....just know that for most people...thinking of me in this way is not possible....I refuse to be this guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6228335?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6228335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6228335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_07_archive.html#6228335' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6226579</id><published>2001-10-09T22:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-16T18:14:14.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So from what I understand, I need to clarify some things. First, when I get mad, and upset, and am on the verge of tears....I say some things that I don't need to say. As far as I'm concerned.....I have not done anything to anyone within the last few months that one could characterize as "fucking over." Sure, others will dispute this, but in my head....as derranged as it may seem, in the long run, I did the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next.....I'm not mad at anyone but myself. I'm mad I believed what I heard, what I felt....and what I thought. That was my mistake and I won't be making it again anytime soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would one have a fund for a ring? These days.....I don't know. So, I thought, for one fleeting moment, that I had made the right decision, the mature decision, and this was way back in May. At this point, I regret two things. First, I regret ever believing the words that led me to that and I regret being me......and someone else.....and that person I don't like. I haven't been exactly myself....life has been weird and confusing, but for one moment, it was nice to have something figured out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.....I'm not going to get bitchy....I'm not going to get mad.....instead, I'm doing what I seem to do best as of late.....crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the choice....but the method.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot hate what I do not know....I cannot love what I cannot feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help the way I feel...tomorrow will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;this is my time of the year &lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;this is all so clear &lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;this is my snow covered home &lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;this is me alone &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;just wish that i didnt feel &lt;br /&gt;like there was something i missed &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;take back all the things i said &lt;br /&gt;to make you feel like that &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;just wish that i didnt feel &lt;br /&gt;like there was something i missed &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;take back all the things i said to you &lt;br /&gt;and i give it all away &lt;br /&gt;just to have somewhere to go to &lt;br /&gt;give it all away &lt;br /&gt;to have someone to come home to &lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;these are my snow covered dreams &lt;br /&gt;this is me pretending &lt;br /&gt;this is all i need &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;just wish that i didnt feel &lt;br /&gt;like there was something i missed &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;take back all the things i said &lt;br /&gt;to make you feel like that &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;just wish that i didnt feel &lt;br /&gt;like there was something i missed &lt;br /&gt;and i &lt;br /&gt;take back all the things i said to you &lt;br /&gt;and i give it all away &lt;br /&gt;just to have somewhere to go to &lt;br /&gt;give it all away &lt;br /&gt;to have someone to come home to &lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;this is my time of the year &lt;br /&gt;this is my december &lt;br /&gt;this is all so clear &lt;br /&gt;and i give it all away &lt;br /&gt;just to have somewhere to go to &lt;br /&gt;give it all away &lt;br /&gt;to have someone to come home to &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6226579?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6226579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6226579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_07_archive.html#6226579' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6163909</id><published>2001-10-07T01:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-07T01:02:17.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So what do you do when someone you love is dating a guy who you're not too sure of? Hmm....I don't know what to do...I'm sure I'll say something sometime. Anyway, my little cousin has moved on, sort of, but I can't explain that right now. She has found Josh, a smart guy with a decent life, drum skills for his punk band, and an interesting outlook on religion. The thing is, the more he says, I can see it, the less she can handle. When expressing thoughts with Erica, one needs to be calm because she can be upset easily, but I think only her family knows this. Needless to say, when I left, it looked as though she was on that verge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volleyball: Us 2 them 1. We win. Whoo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin and I tore apart the kitchen today to cook chicken and spicy hash browns. Tow guys who think they can cook, a small kitchen, and conflicting ideas can equal disaster. But, it didn't here. The food was rather good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the night with dear old Erica.....I know I can always talk to her. She gave me an idea, but I'm not really up for it right now, but maybe later. Then I met her new boyfriend and we went to grab some Ground Round mealage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the house for some 151 and then to her apartment. This is where the discussion comes in....and this is where I sign off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and she misses Paul and is going to call him. Also, Carrey is more fucked in the head than I ever knew. Whoo hoooo.....damn the cute ones....they're always fucked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6163909?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6163909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6163909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_10_07_archive.html#6163909' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6145936</id><published>2001-10-06T00:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-06T00:55:01.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kristin, if you read this, you're not fucked up, nor was I saying you were. The things in my head at the time were what was fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let it go&lt;br /&gt;It was never yours.....&lt;br /&gt;Let it be&lt;br /&gt;it will go away&lt;br /&gt;Let it hurt&lt;br /&gt;it makes a man out of you&lt;br /&gt;Let it sting&lt;br /&gt;we all have that&lt;br /&gt;Let it end&lt;br /&gt;because it will come back&lt;br /&gt;Let it die&lt;br /&gt;breath its new life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6145936?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6145936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6145936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_30_archive.html#6145936' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6144543</id><published>2001-10-05T23:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-05T23:31:51.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't deal with certain things in life....so i can ignore them, forget them.....lie....or best yet, keep it bottled up till someone pisses me off to the point where he/she gets the best I can serve up. I choose the last one like always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, it's not even how I feel, it's what I know, what I lose. ISO new best friend. That may sound awful, but, well, reading one's Blog would make you think otherwise. I don't know that I have ever been a pseudo-friend, but hell....what ever makes you happy in life, go for it, and fuck it if it doesn't fit everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.....and the worst part is that I can't get rid of that fucking empty hole in my gut......it's eating at me. I want to say so much, but casual hellos and goodbyes leave little room for conversation. How about this....."Oh, yeah, and by the way....did I mention I was in love with you?" Yeah..so that never happened. Bob is right, love is for dependants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6144543?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6144543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6144543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_30_archive.html#6144543' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6067765</id><published>2001-10-02T19:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-02T19:36:13.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know that old saying, "If you love something, let it go. If it returns, it's yours forever, and if not, it was never meant to be."? I've been thinking, and this is such a load of shit. Think about this. Your most loyal companion, your dog, man's best friend, can be easliy tempted away from you with a simple piece of beef. So long loyalty and so long sparky. Come now, that fucks with that thought, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I let anything go, it's because I didn't want it back. I guess that's what needs to happen from now on, I only can let things go that I can live without. Anyway, why I thought of this is really trivial and is not so important, but a friends "kind" (yeah, right) words have brought these thoughts to mind, and I had to get them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Jaclyn, she and I had a hell of a talk Sunday night, and we're actually rather good. Her feelings seem to be getting the best of her, and the alcohol just didn't help at all. Anyway, no more gettiung kicked out of bars and no more of anything between us. We're trying to do this friends thing, even if one of us wants more. Hell, I kissed her too, so, well, whatever happens happens, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things are hard to watch......I can't go in depth on this otherwise, well, it will be hard to read. But, think of it this way. A new toy, anything, that you want, but cannot have, but it sits in front of you, unpackaged and ready to be enjoyed, yet, nope, it's not yours to have. It's just severley fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was cold and wet, but hell, to meet some of the people, Lindsay, Steve, Brad, etc.....oh yeah, it was worth it. I came away with $300 extra too, so, hey, not bad at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now back to life. My one and only class starts in two weeks, and life should be normal soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lesson. Don't ever think that something you want is impossible to get. Try, and if nothing happens, find happiness elsewhere, but try hard enough that you don't regret your efforts later. I'm still trying, but for what.......I'm not too sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6067765?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6067765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6067765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_30_archive.html#6067765' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-6023557</id><published>2001-09-30T22:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-30T22:52:33.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"I read your diary. It was boring."&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up until maybe 3 months ago, I have only done one thing in my life I regret. As of now, it's somewhere near 4, First, I took a friendly offering and made it somewhat of a phsyical thing, knowing that I couldn't handle any of the consequences. I can't..............and I can't exactyl explain why. Oh, Livy seems to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I don't know, I regret trying to be someone I'm not. Hell, I know I can be a pain, and somewhat stubborn, arrogant, and a lot of other things, but I am not the heartless beast that I pretended to be. I care about everyone, no matter what my personnal feelings may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A large part of me is missing, and whether or not I know how to get it back is not the problem. The problem is, even if I get it back, I don't know how I can be the same. Whatever happened to that loving brother guy that someone once told me I was (thanks Beck!) I miss a lot of things I used to take for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else do I regret? E-mails, comments, and anything that I need to keep with me and not scream to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one really reads this, but typing helps sometimes. Even when I talk, it's not always what I need to say, but my finger always express my life to a tee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm missing life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-6023557?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6023557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/6023557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_30_archive.html#6023557' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5921393</id><published>2001-09-26T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-26T00:32:32.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What a waste of gas my travels of today were. I got to the interview about 20 minutes early, anticipating a one on one interview format where I could convince someone of my abilities. Yeah, like they cared. I didn't even need any college experience to work for this piece of shit place. They wantedme to be a Cutco salesman, but instead of knives, I was now selling stocks, etc.. If I'm going to be a financial advisor, I'm doing it the right way. No thanks. I declined the second interview. What a waste of four years that would have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.......I did my duties as the nice guy, who seems to be coming back into play all of a sudden. I e-mail Jackie and wished her a happy birthday. I didn't even call Gina, but then again, I don't know her number. I'll be with her Friday night anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait till this weekend. The video camera is ready to go, and so am I. I do believe it may be a bit too cold for any swimming, but it should be a lot of fun hitting the bars at night with some of the guys and women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off to bed now. I need to work in the morning. I also need to keep looking for a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5921393?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5921393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5921393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_23_archive.html#5921393' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5853499</id><published>2001-09-22T22:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-22T22:06:46.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, hmm.....I don't even know why I'm in here typing about my day. There's nothing to type about. I woke up, did almost nothing at all, then went to work, and did the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I bought a new toy yesterday. All of a sudden, I have some extra money. Anyway, there was a Sony Digicam on sale at work for only $197. Heheehehehe.....on www.mysimon.com it lists from $400-$650. What a steal. So, needless to say, we've been filming. It will be great for the beach next week. Hmm....VW Girls Gone Wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond that, I'm not doing anything right now. I asked Jillian what her plans were, but, well, I'm not sure if she blew me off or just didn't get that I was asking her to do something. Anyway, I'm going to end up somewhere soon. What a great Blog session this has been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5853499?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5853499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5853499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_16_archive.html#5853499' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5816780</id><published>2001-09-20T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-20T22:58:25.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it's been one those days. I just didn't feel like being alive, well, not like that, but living a real life today. In other words, I woke up at 10, back to bed till 11:30, online in boxers and glasses till 1:30, then into the shower, getting a hair cut, shaving, and cleaning myself up. I didn't get dressed nor eat till after the clock had placed it's small hand on the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after that, I lounged. I have to admit, though, that I didn't like it all that much. I felt as though I should have been doing something else, maybe working, maybe even just working around the house. Who knows. An old episode of Pinky and the Brain quickly turned my attention away from the prospect of doing work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did work, though, real work, at 5. We were dead, and such, we have been since the world has changed.&lt;br /&gt;Lower hours for all, and it's a bad job market right now. Most people can't even threaten to quit, knowing that others are having the same problems, unless, of course, you own a movie theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly and I spent most of the night talking, and I didn't have much work to do. Even Leanne wasn't yelling at me or anything. It was actually somewhat nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heheheheheh......I have to go to a gay bar next week. My girl Gina is turning 21, and well, we have to go out. She said I had to go to the gay bar and do karaoke for her. Now I'm being forced to sing Backstreet Boys. Sure, that's it, no one will think I'm fruity while I'm in the bar reciting lyrics to a boy band ballad. Hi, I'm Dave, and most likely, not even men will find me attractive. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some other thoughts a few minutes ago, and I wanted to type them. Then, my connection died and I lost any sense of what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have a thought for the day? Hmmm.....I would have to say that it's amazing how some people look at you, beliebe how you are, and others, well, no matter how hard you try, they just can't see the same. Weird thing is, this isn't so apparent in my life, but sometimes, like tonight it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For reasons I don't need to mention, my prayers are with Jayne tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Todd stopped in. He was stranded in Ireland for 4 extra days with this whole thing. Oh, sure, that has to hurt. His fiance, Sam, saw the entire collision and destruction of the towers from her top floor window in NY. Needless to say, she was slightly shaken, and Tood was not there to hold her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, no more thoughts. I'll rot my brain soon, I know it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5816780?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5816780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5816780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_16_archive.html#5816780' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5752755</id><published>2001-09-18T00:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-18T00:37:12.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So Megan tells me I need to talk to somone to release my tension. I told her I sing. I think that works, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went shopping avec Madamoseille Kristin today, and I bought the wrong size pants. I guess I have to go back soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird, there was a few years when a silent time with Kristin was not akward but rather comfortable. Now, well, silence comes when we really don't want to speak to eachother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that may be it today. I did nothing out of the ordinary nor did I plan to. What a fun day it was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5752755?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5752755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5752755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_16_archive.html#5752755' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5730082</id><published>2001-09-16T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-16T23:19:43.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In some places, I'm labelled a post whore, but not here I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost said good night angel, but I didn't slip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackie's crying, Vickie's crying......I'm okay, nothing wet yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work sucks. I want out. Still, I'll live. Once again, the 25th,,,,,,,,it's magic; maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing too interesting to post. I chatted with Chrissy for like an hour tonight. She's so damn sweet......really. Anyway, it was cars, work, I think I'm getting her some damn nice wheels.......and then it was her ex, my ex('s?) and love sucks. "Love, ain't it grand?"  me "Yeah, well, it's a few grand, and it's not cheap."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stole that from Chris. He's my mentor when it comes to women now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle E is just the man. He was like "You guys need to go on a hay ride.....you know what to do on hayrides." Yeah, we make out. Well, not me, but back in the day, that's what they did, and that's what he meant. I think Melissa was all up for that. Things I don't need to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5730082?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5730082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5730082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_16_archive.html#5730082' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5712969</id><published>2001-09-15T23:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-15T23:53:53.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ll, In wake of the last few days of news, I have nothing too interesting to add. I'm trying to move on with my life these days, and I'm not exactly sure what that means nor entails, but it feels as though I am moving in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mikey's B-day party was today, and I'm impressed. He was very weel behaved, even though it was evident toward the end that he was rather tired. Anyway, I got him the customary Scooby Doo tape, a shark bath robe (hey, he asked for it and was SOOOO happy) and a cotton candy maker. Yep, I'm the one who buys him all the junk. He's three, do you think he wants clothes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work was short but fun as I got to work with one of the two crazy Sues. Hmm........Kristin has to haul out a chunk of money to fix her "new-to-me" car. I think, honestly, that the price may be cheaper other places, but I'll let her do what she wants to do. If I mention it, she gets agitated, so I'll just keep it under wraps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what I hear, Jaclyn was crying tonight over what some customer did. I don't know who was at fault, but I am still her friend, no matter who gets pissed at me. It's not like her to cry. It's also not like her to apologize, so, well, that could be part of it all. I'm sure I'll hear about it from her, maybe. She's rather short with me as of late. You know, if you add it up, it's her paranoid mind that ended things, not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't go off on that right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, a night of video games, how mature. I went shopping, got a CD and two magazines, and that's it. I went to get pants only. No pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have another interview on the 25th. Wish me luck. It would be some serious cash!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5712969?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5712969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5712969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_09_archive.html#5712969' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5653968</id><published>2001-09-12T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-12T22:30:57.950-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I'm releaved, to some extent. Ted got a hold of Josh, and he's fine and in Brroklyn right now. We all thought he started work this Monday. Nope, it's next Monday. At least we know he's safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks as though a few more buildings will fall within the next few hours. Helplessness is the biggest feeling in my body right now. I can't donate blood, and I can't help with recovery. All we can do is prayer, for those who may still be alive, for the families of those who have lost, and for everyone who lays in bed with fear of what may be to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few things that calm my mind now. I was watching the Spawn before, but commercials and sensorship kill it, so it went off after about 30 minutes. Also, my cars and my plans, well, they both get my mind of the things for now. I can't even begin to complain about my own problems at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just had to share my happiness. I can stop worrying about him now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5653968?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5653968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5653968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_09_archive.html#5653968' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5649409</id><published>2001-09-12T18:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-12T18:45:34.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>No need to say "I love you", you can hear it in my eyes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to post this. I don't know why, but it sounded so cool.&lt;br /&gt;VW girls can write lyrics, evidently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5649409?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5649409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5649409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_09_archive.html#5649409' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5632128</id><published>2001-09-11T23:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-12T00:05:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, ten days have gone by, and I'm in with a new title and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, where to start? How about here? Today, I cried, a lot, for my friends, for those class mates I know we'll never see again, and for the basic matter. I cannot believe that this has happened. How can someone, or such persons, lack a sense of moral guidance and believe that killing a few thousand innocent people will close this nation? It won't&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;On another note, I wish Josh would call one of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is work, but I'm more at ease with my place there. I have fun most of the time, especially when it comes to the top ten reasons why Rod Stewart sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I would love to sit and complain about my love life problems, but I can't. I've come to realize that there are more things to life than this, and whatever will be will be. Sad thing? I'm singing this in my head right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I had to format? I lost all, but it's like getting a clean start. I wish this worked in real life too. Hmm....format.......last semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wearing jeans, I shave almost everyday. I finally have convinced myself that I am no better than the guy next to me, that I do not deserve more just for being me, and that life only throws things at you that you were supposed to pick up at some time. So, gone, really, I promise, is a good chunk of the ego. I miss that guy that everyone talked to, and trusted, and sometimes loved. I think he took a vacation, but I hope he enjoyed it. This should be his last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to loose weight, and it's not for anyone but myself. I'm going to give it a try, like 20 lbs. or so. Nothing drastic, but I want to fit into a 36 again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I summed up my last week in only a few paragraphs. I'm not much for words right now, I'm still in shock. I'll get back to you when I hear from Josh. Oh, just for those who know, he's a brilliant young man, graduated from Lehigh, and works for PWC, right in the area of today's horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for all others, my prayers are with them and their families. This should never happen to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5632128?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5632128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5632128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_09_09_archive.html#5632128' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5418067</id><published>2001-09-01T00:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-01T00:15:17.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it was one of those days. I just couldn't get past the fact that no one was overly happy with me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listen to Nat, Bonnie gets pissed. I listen to Bonnie, Nat gets pissed. Who did the work? Chris. I talked to him, and he could have cared less. Life there might be perfect if Jeff got the boot and Chris was in charge. Oh, wait, that's right, he is, but Jeff takes all the credit. That's a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di is 29 today, one year from being old, as she says. I thought old was like 90 these days, but I guess not.&lt;br /&gt;She got a book and two pairs of jeans from me. I didn't even purchase any of them myself. What are ya gonna do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I talked to Jaclyn in person, and she was flipping on me because of her schedule. Hi, I'm Dave, please, walk on me, and let me feel bad for you. Maybe I'll even help you out. Well, I tried, but she still wasn't satisfied with the effort. I'll get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristin thought our fight was fun. Hmm...not what I was thinking. I guess she doesn't really understand. That may be because I don't know how to tell her certain things, but, well, it's a little weird. So, I sit back, drink my warm capuccino, smoke my filterless Camels, and I ride my own wave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask, it's an old thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest, I'm off tomorrow, so no stress is in sight. I'm just chatting online right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's a thought. You know who your friends are when they can not only forgive your stupidity within a matter of days, but also smile at you in a way that only that person can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough of this shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5418067?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5418067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5418067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_26_archive.html#5418067' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5399073</id><published>2001-08-31T00:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-31T00:34:05.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And today, I felt much better about life. Granted, I still didn't get up right away, but that was out of shear laziness more than anything. Work sucked, but it always does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, how does this start? I work with Wilma, and yeah, I showed my face about two minutes late or so, but still within reason. Then, I'm told, not asked, to help a customer with a lift and some work. This takes time. The next thing I know, Nat's paging and she's pissed because I was told to do something else. Okay, whatever. I'm never to leave the desk again. I'll live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was out at 5, but it's more like 3:45, which made me smile. Beyond that, I don't have much more to say about work. It happens, and I got payed, so I'm livin. I wish I could get out of there, but as Di said, if needbe, I can defer my loans for a few months till my life becomes more situated. I'm not even sure I know what that is at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.......Nothing more to say really. I'm in a better mood. I smiled and meant it, so that's a first in some time. Life goes on, and so do we, so what's to worry about? It's when life stops me dead in my tracks, that's when I start to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5399073?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5399073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5399073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_26_archive.html#5399073' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5377581</id><published>2001-08-29T23:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-29T23:58:41.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Is it wrong to wish someone would just shoot me in the knee cap? Can I list the problems of my life? Sure I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an asshole. And for some reason, I have no contorl over this. On a daily basis, 23 out of 24 hours a day, this other guy comes out and pisses everyone off. The other hour, most days, I'm asleep. And I don't know what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, love is a non-existant word in my vocab these days. I can't even imagine what I would do with a woman in my life. I would end up fucking it up, like I seem to do these days. I don't know if it's me compensating for what I don't have or what, but I'm beginning to piss myself off. I don't even know where to turn or what to do or who to talk to. I get advice, but it's the advice they would give to the nice guy that I assume is still learking inside me somewhere. AHHHHHHHH.....fuck this. I can't even think about that anymore, it just makes me more hostile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get the job. I got some bullshit letter lying, telling me that it's been filled, while all the time I know that someone is coming in tomorrow for an interview. It helps to have friends on the inside. Anyway, Todd's out a grand.  He'll live, I'm sure. Now where do I go? I'm not sure. I don't  even know if I'm likable these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. I figured it out. I don't like myself. It's the truth. I have no self esteem. I can't even think of anything now that makes me smile.   Really. I think that's it. I don't know, maybe that's why I have an ego, to cover this up. God knows how unjustified it is. I really am nothing great, nothing at all, but your normal pee-on who takes what's given. That's the shit of it all. I don't know what I want, where I want to be, or where I want to go. I thought I did, but someone flushed that. Maybe it was me.  I don't know. Maybe I'm not meant to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time I'll admit this. Kristin has fucked me over in life, and I keep coming back for me. I think she is one of the main reasons I'm like this. In my mind, I can't get away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, I go and do the same thing to Jackie. OKay, now I regret two things I've done in my life. That hurts me more than anything. I let my guard down, pissed off a friend, and most likely lost her. Why? Because, I'm an ass. Just check out the foot prints on my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know where I'm going with this! Did I mention that I hate to cry? Well, fuck that, I just had a fight with my best friend, and I'm not even sure what it was over. I can't say what I feel. I really can't. I also can't handle what she tells me, I'll admit that. It hurts, on a weird level. So I come back at her with shit she didn't want to hear. All I know is that I've fucked up, yet again but she did too. I hate crying. I can't help it right now. I don't know what else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di's B-day is Friday. I still never know what to get her. That's the least of my worries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't rant on her all too well. When I rant to people, though, I hurt their feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things no one wants to hear right now. If I could be anywhere right now, I'd be holding on...................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       All the times that I cried &lt;br /&gt;                       All this wastin &lt;br /&gt;                       It's all inside &lt;br /&gt;                       And i feel all this pain &lt;br /&gt;                       Stuffed it down &lt;br /&gt;                       It's back again &lt;br /&gt;                       And I lie here in bed &lt;br /&gt;                       All alone &lt;br /&gt;                       I cant help what I feel &lt;br /&gt;                       Tomorrow will be okay &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5377581?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5377581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5377581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_26_archive.html#5377581' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5333888</id><published>2001-08-27T23:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-27T23:24:30.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I know it's been some time since I've been on here, but there's nothing to say. Uh....life is as boring as ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have we missed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is back in session for most, but it's not for me. I need a job, ASAP. I did interview for a position, so pray that I get it. I could really use to get on with my life and get away from a lot of the shit that is associated with BJ's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new obsession. Well, I suck, 'cause Joey beats me most of the time, but I'm into chess all of a sudden. I'm not sure why, but hell, it's an intelecutal thing. It's the first time that word and Joey have come up in the same thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not my khakis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Jack's utter lack of self-respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well, that may be it for now. Accoridng to a few, I've been a little pissy these last few days. Maybe I'm just down. There's not too much to get up about any more. I hope tha changes soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5333888?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5333888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5333888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_26_archive.html#5333888' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5333884</id><published>2001-08-27T23:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-27T23:24:30.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I know it's been some time since I've been on here, but there's nothing to say. Uh....life is as boring as ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have we missed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is back in session for most, but it's not for me. I need a job, ASAP. I did interview for a position, so pray that I get it. I could really use to get on with my life and get away from a lot of the shit that is associated with BJ's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new obsession. Well, I suck, 'cause Joey beats me most of the time, but I'm into chess all of a sudden. I'm not sure why, but hell, it's an intelecutal thing. It's the first time that word and Joey have come up in the same thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not my khakis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Jack's utter lack of self-respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well, that may be it for now. Accoridng to a few, I've been a little pissy these last few days. Maybe I'm just down. There's not too much to get up about any more. I hope tha changes soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5333884?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5333884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5333884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_26_archive.html#5333884' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5098751</id><published>2001-08-15T01:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-15T01:41:57.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really can't believe she showed up. At 12 am, the door bell rang, and there she was. If I hadn't woken up her dad or thought I would have been getting her out of bed, I woul have been there in a second. I was just content with not sleeping though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked, and well, I know, just like SOME PEOPLE need to do with me, I cannot take Kristin's blog as what she means at the time. I've always trusted her before, I shouldn't stop now. She'e never been one to lie to me just to spare my feelings. Thank God for that. And people wonder why I can say so many things about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the talk, it went well, and, if nothing more, it proved to me that she's so much more than just my best friend. No one else would have come to my front door so quickly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I ever said you lied. I'm sorry that I may not always deserve you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, wait, yeah, in her own way, she apologized to me, but just as much as she hates hearing some words, saying others can be just as rare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5098751?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5098751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5098751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5098751' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5096244</id><published>2001-08-14T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-14T23:09:32.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Do you know what it feels like to have the only person you have ever loved in your life to tell you that you didn't deserve her? Fuck it, I do. I know she's going through a lot, but hell, I'm in it, and I didn't want to be. Now it's a bit too late, because, well, either way you look at it, I've been fucked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me 2 years to think I was over you.&lt;br /&gt;It took me 20 minutes one night to realize that I was lying to myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That may be the only truth I know right now. I can't help how I feel nor who I love. I wish I could. Right now, I feel as though I have made a rather large mistake, but I don't know what it is. Maybe it was believing that things would be different. Maybe it was me pushing Jaclyn. Maybe it was both. Anyway I look at it, I won't be sleeping without some medical help tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I just called the Jacoby's at 11:30 at night. Mr. J is going to kill me, and it's not as though I can try to explain myself or the situation. I'll just have to sit back and take it. It's just not like her to run like that. Maybe there are too many things running through her head, but, well, I don't know what to do with that. I'm in limbo here, and as of late, I've been reading my fate online and not from her lips.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5096244?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5096244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5096244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5096244' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5096124</id><published>2001-08-14T23:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-14T23:02:40.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have yet to figure out why I do this. Why is it that I cannot tell anyone my feelings yet I seem to type them out here with ease? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want anyone to see this, read it, or live it, but yet, the only people I care about in this world have access to my head 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to let myself fall. Yeah, this would be something I said about 4 months ago. It didn't last. It could have lasted, but I would have to shut myself in a room and done nothing. I fell. And fuck it, it took me here, to where I can't sleep, all I can do is tear up a bit and wonder when it will be over again. I should have known, I really should have known. There's a point where guilt trips seem like real life, and there's a point where a kiss can mean so much, and then, when you read about someone else's life, it's amazing. That kiss, those tears, that insecurity, well, it means absolutley nothing. This is what I was afraid of more than anything. This is why I was an asshole for about one month of my life. I went too far, but for once, it wasn't my fault. I was led, and no, I'm a little upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can someone doubt their feelings when they have them all the time? Why is it that the only time I feel needed is when there's someone else getting too close. I'm tired of this shit, and I put myself here. I can't stand to love someone I can't have. I feel as though I've passed things by, let things go, and given little effort to others just to ensure that when all was said and done, I would get the words I long to hear. Yeah, I get them, but now their's doubt. Why? One day of thought, a life of confusion, and I feel like the old furniture that has to go before the new couch arrives. Maybe it's just me, but even if it is, I know I won't sleep tonight. The never ending pit in my stomach won't let me. Now I feel like I should be the one trying to get away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5096124?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5096124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5096124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5096124' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5092375</id><published>2001-08-14T18:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-14T18:58:23.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In all my haste and anger last night, I forgot to write about my cop incident. Coming off the 22 ramp onto Airport rd. last night, I was followed by one state cop. Then, sitting in the Wholesale club lot, there were numerous cops coming in and out of the lot, with two finally stopping and sitting at the gas station. Okay, so, they left when I did. Then, as we were in Denny's, I saw the one across the street finally put its lights on while another came into the Denny's lot and was circling once again. I thought I was going to get pulled ove for Joey's dumb ass lights, but I guess not. Anyway, nothing ever came of it, and I'm just paranoid. Still, the story was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my day hasn't been much better with exception to the 3 hour stint with Erica. It's nice to have her back. She and I went looking for jobs, I took her to lunch at BBW, and then she wanted some ice cream. I'm a sucker, and yeah, I picked up the tab for all of this. Hell, what is family for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just saw the movie Loser on Skinimax. I guess it's not all skin after all. Anyway, it took the day from noon to night, so it wasted some time. I just can't rid of this feeling in my stomach. I'm not hungry, not sick, and I don't know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent an e-mail to my best friend last night letting her know that I appreciated her no matter what. She didn't quite understand. She really never does, but then again, neither do I. Now I'm trying to waste away the night on here. It's only 7, so I don't think I'll succeed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to go deal with my empty feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me 2 years to think I was over you.&lt;br /&gt;It took me 20 minutes one night to realize that I was lying to myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5092375?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5092375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5092375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5092375' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5077221</id><published>2001-08-14T00:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-14T00:16:19.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just heard the news today, let yourself down once again trusted your feelings in a place that no one goes will you do anything, to satisfy your so-called friend? there's something you ought to know, before you explode all i want to do is make sure you stop chasing rainbows trusting those around you is an easy thing to do i'm not saying don't believe in someone that you don't know just don't go on thinking that the whole world tells the truth it's all fucked up, being reserved and quiet she doesn't understand the message that you send don't give it all away somewhere, someday there's someone who can replace that state of mind, you never give it time (never) all i want to do is make sure you stop chasing rainbows letting everybody crawl inside your heart and mine kicking you is easy when you're down that's where the weak know to release their anger on someone who will not try to stand up, and give them a fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5077221?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5077221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5077221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5077221' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5076420</id><published>2001-08-13T23:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-13T23:31:35.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Does it seem that I'm less than human if I say that I no longer care? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, no really, am I that bad for simply saying that I don't give a fuck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, then welcome to the world of me as an asshole. It seems to be a growing trend these days. I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's in the water. Any way you choose to look at it, I've become the bad guy from all sides, and hell, who am I to argue with such things? Far be it for me to have wants and desires for my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's far from the end of this rant. Where to start? How about here? Hmm................Everyone wants me out of the lives of people. I don't know if I even have a choice. I don't know if I care. What do I care about? I care about keeping my friends, at least those that want to be kept. I don't know as of now, as I pissed Jaclyn off on the way out of Denny's. I don't know what I did. She tends not to believe me, and I have yet to feed her any lines or bullshit, I just overlooked something a while ago. That, I'll admit, was a big mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, now Diana's asking too many questions and I seem to have something in my eyes. Fuckin' allergies.&lt;br /&gt;So where to go now? Okay, I admit, I may have lied. Everytime Kristin goes out with one of her guy friends, I care. It's not that, well, I think I can be replaced. It's more the fact that with exception to these last few weeks, I was such an ass that married men who beat their wives could replace me. Get it? Hmm...yeah, some friend I am. And that's pretty much all I am. So, well, I'm done now. Maybe I'll find something fun to talk about on the Vortex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5076420?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5076420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5076420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5076420' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5057855</id><published>2001-08-13T01:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-13T01:33:13.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so this is not a good day by any means. I don't know how to admit that I'm actually depressed, but I am now. I'm out of it, seriously. Does anyone know why? Let me tell you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I still have no clue what I did to Jaclyn. Honestly, I know I didn't really talk to her this week, but I haven't been an ass hole. I know we need to talk. I know I need to explain a lot to her, and she deserves that much from me. I chased after something, something that I felt a few months ago, thinking that it was still there. And, well, unfortunatley, it just wasn't the same. I don't know what it was, maybe just some bad timing, but things are just not right. I think to some extent, though, I may have led her on, and that was me being the bad guy, so for that, I deserve a kick in the ass. Still, I want to work it out. I do value her friendship, although she doesn't seem to think so. It really bothers me that she doesn't believe me, but I can't blame her. I guess I'm just another tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's one dating relationship down the tubes. Here's the next. I hate to have to learn things about my life by turning on the computer, but that's when I discovered that I was no longer dating Kristin any more. She doesn't want to, although she never told me this. I don't know what she's waiting for, but, well, I know now. She wants something, someone else. I can't give her anything like that. For me it sucks, but for her, well, I don't know. Here's the problem. She came back to me about 3 months ago. It took me two years to believe I was over Kristin, and it took me twenty minutes one night to realize I was lying to myself. Yes, I admit it, the reason I cannot date someone else is because I love Kristin. The worst part is that I can do nothing about it. It hurts, and that's why this has been a bad day. I spent the entire day with Jillian talking about life and love, and what it comes down to is that I shouldn't even put forth an effort any more. No matter how good it is, it will change nothing. I'm screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a better note, Erica's on her way home, so maybe I'll cry on her shoulder if given the chance. I'm half way there now. I hate this. Last week, she was crying because she thought she would loose me. Now, it's me. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I'm just so damn proud of Jillian for being strong. I'm impressed. If I had half the guts she had, I may be better off. Anyway, I am stupid and now I admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaclyn, I'm sorry. I really am. You deserve so much more.&lt;br /&gt;Jillian, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;Megan, hehehe, nice.&lt;br /&gt;Kristin, just remember, Pedialite works for hangovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5057855?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5057855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5057855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5057855' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5041561</id><published>2001-08-12T00:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-12T00:34:11.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nihilism 5: im really looking forward to leaving&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: And is it mostly because of me?&lt;br /&gt;Nihilism 5: i feel like im having deja vu all over again!&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: So you think I'm like NAte?&lt;br /&gt;Nihilism 5: in some aspects&lt;br /&gt;hoth2omkIV: The ex thing, right? I'm sorry if I'm still friends with her, but she's my best friend. She's that one person I can always talk to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is how my night starts, and on my birthday. Oh, yeah, whoo hoo, I'm now 22. I don't feel anything right now, so, sorry if I seem to be less than enthusiastic about it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, no one was home when I woke up. Really, no one called until Kristin in the early afternoon. She worked till late and missed the family dinner and desert. Wow, I just realized that she didn't even eat any cake, her favorite. She was, well, in a bad mood of sorts. And, the worst part is that I understand why. I wish she was doing what she said. I did, to some extent, and I'm sure of what I want now. I think I always was, but my heart had to prove this to my brain. Now, I sit and wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got some overly nice clothing today. Tommy, Ralph, and some Old NAvy round out the list. It's nice to be overly preppy and not really even try too hard. No wonder I fit in at Lehigh. I'll be well equipped for the new school year. OH, yeah, that's right, I don't have a school year any more. Well, welcome to the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally met Jillian's friend Racheal. I say finally as if I was waiting for this day with baited breath. Trust me, I wasn't. She was a nice, pretty young woman though. Kristin, Jillian, Rachael and I went to OPP and talked, well, mostly about Chris, and some Jaclyn stuff came up. It no longer bothers me, but I can still see the look on Kristin's face every once in a while. I know she hates the situation, no matter how over it is. I just wish some things in life would come together. I'll get a little mushy for a second. There are very few things in this world I am sure of beyond where I'll wake up tomorrow, but I'm positive that I love her. I sound a bit like Jillian, but I don't feel like I make a mistake loving her. I don't know, I'll stop typing it all now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's no longer my day, so it's back to the regular life. I guess I'll live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best part of the day? Mikey sang to me this morning. It was so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5041561?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5041561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5041561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_12_archive.html#5041561' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5008930</id><published>2001-08-09T23:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-09T23:50:31.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Now we'll try again. This last week has been weird. It all started with Kristin coming home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wilma: "You know, Kristin's home?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Um.....yeah, thanks for telling me Wilma."&lt;br /&gt;Wilma: "Well I didn't know!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she came home and let a few more feelings fly out at me. She teared up a bit, so I'm sorry about that. The fact is, she really believes Jaclyn could steal me away. I don't think that's possible. She really doesn't get what I see when I look at her, or what goes through me when I hear her voice, or feel her touch. I don't know of anyone that could take that from me, or her. She's my best friend, why would I even consider leaving that behind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then Jaclyn can't seemt to handle Kristin's position(s) in my life. So, I am a major source of stress, and it seems I need to go. I feel bad. I know I'm not an ass hole nor did I ever lie to her, but yet, I feel like I fucked up a bit. I don't know why. I really just want to get out of this with a friend in her and without her being hurt, but that seems almost impossible. So here's three people who can't really handle my life all too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove go-karts yesterday, I got my ass kicked. We relaxed ate smores, talked, and had a very calm day away from it all. I love being with my friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it's two days away, and a tattoo for us both tomorrow. Oh, and some singing. Whooo baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5008930?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5008930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5008930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_05_archive.html#5008930' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-5008779</id><published>2001-08-09T23:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-09T23:40:43.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This thing sucks. I can't even Blog right. Fuck you Blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-5008779?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5008779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/5008779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_08_05_archive.html#5008779' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4846156</id><published>2001-08-01T01:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-01T01:01:37.973-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, where to start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have cleavage, who knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's about the extent of my day. I technically graduated, again. I took the exam this morning, and it wasn't too bad at all. I wish I had studied like that the first time around, so I wouldn't have fucked up things so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And off that for now, since it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cooked for Jaclyn tonight, and it wasn't too bad. Never use fried rice seasoning in a packet. It needed to be reflavored just to taste good. All in all, we fought for a bit, maybe not a fight, but, well, a discussion. I admit it, I was wrong. I did find something new and exciting in Jaclyn, but it's just part of her I overlooked before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We discussed relationships and things of that nature, with a good joke in the middle. Watch for those biting men, they'll sweep you off your feet. Hmm.....that makes two boyfriends, right? I'll stake a claim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And well, that's about it. I have to deal with things as they come and not worry about what comes tomorrow. Seize the day and forget the next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4846156?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4846156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4846156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_29_archive.html#4846156' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4824200</id><published>2001-07-30T23:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-30T23:01:01.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And now a word from our sponsors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When life gets you down, leave it be, life can only get better. Drink some alcohol, life gets a bit better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well, this won't be happening anytime soon. I have an exam in the morning that means the difference between a life and another few months working at BJ's. Whoo hoo....blow jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was extremely surprised when I got a message from Kristin on my phone today. I didn't think she would even care to call. So, I did call back tonight. Yeah, that was my first mistake. I asked her about Jason and I talked to her about some things, and well, she seems to have become a little unhappy. The thing is, I don't know what did it to her. I don't think I said anything new. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be studying, but if I stare at another line of text I'll become my own book. What a bore that would be to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to go call out of work because I was scheduled when I needed to be off. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a bad day again. I guess you would not understand. All I can do is leave a message and say I'm sorry I, I had a bad day again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4824200?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4824200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4824200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_29_archive.html#4824200' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4814956</id><published>2001-07-30T14:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-30T14:22:36.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmm....a short talk with Melissa today made me realize something. First, it's me that's creating my own little sopa opera here. Anyway, the fact is, I figured out why I want to be with Jaclyn. It's rare for me to spend time with someone and not only be attracted to that person but also be willing to try for something more than attraction alone. As I said, this is rare for me. I'm in no way an ass, but it seems as though most women that I find attractive I couldn't actually be with for long periods of time. Maybe it's just me. I have an ex like this. We were fine dating, but I just couldn't be her friend. We really don't have mcuh in common. I can be her friend, but, well, I don't need to be with her. Someone must understand. I guess it's just nice to find someone else like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's enough rambling for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4814956?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4814956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4814956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_29_archive.html#4814956' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4805497</id><published>2001-07-29T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-29T23:37:56.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it went well yesterday. Dinner was rather good, I guess the walk was cool. There's really nothing esle new to do here. I am still clueless. Anyway, yeah, it went well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEHEH, when we got to the Dillman's, Melissa told me she had some guy coming over. Don't tell her I said anything, but she hooked up. Aww.....she's growing up. I'll kill him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaclyn and I, well, okay, she decided to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3. Umm..yeah. Anyway, I was a p;in in the ass during the movie, but, well, she's nice enough to kick me.  Beyond that, it was a good night. No need for extensive details, but I'll tell you something. Melissa, well, she was working it. I don't know what's up with her, but her man, well, he's a bit beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4805497?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4805497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4805497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_29_archive.html#4805497' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4783778</id><published>2001-07-28T18:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-28T18:07:49.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, this week should be weird. True, Kristin is gone, but she's never out of mind, no matter what. What I am doing, though, is taking this time to get some things done, such as sneek a few dates in with Jackie if possible. We'll see what happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristin and I had the most interesting talk last night, with no solution. I guess sometimes I just don't understand her at all, yet I understand where's she's coming from. Still, things with her are overly confusing. I tend to think she's not liking the results of her decision as much as she thought she would. Well, it's not my fault. I'm all right all of a sudden.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I think she knows how she made me feel yesterday, especially last night. Really! I hadn't been called that in two years. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4783778?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4783778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4783778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_22_archive.html#4783778' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4678955</id><published>2001-07-23T01:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-23T01:36:41.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And yeah, I think this was posted before, but it fits again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to die today, tomorrow would&lt;br /&gt;I live for just one&lt;br /&gt;smile&lt;br /&gt;just one spoken&lt;br /&gt;word&lt;br /&gt;just one glimpse&lt;br /&gt;one touch&lt;br /&gt;just one more chance to remind &lt;br /&gt;you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4678955?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4678955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4678955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_22_archive.html#4678955' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4678107</id><published>2001-07-23T00:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-23T00:38:04.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm still waiting for life to catch up with me. That may sound like a weird thought, but it's the easiest way to explain what's going on right now. There's this guy inside my head who has everything figured out, to a T! The thing is, the world is not conforming to my wishes. In my head, the job is mine. In real life, the interview is mine. My head thinks the exam will be no problem while I know I will have to study my ass off. My mind and my heart tell me that I'm in love, but life tells me there's more than this. I'm not sure if I agree with the world on this one, but I'm willing to try and find out for myself. Still, as much as I hate to sulk about Kristin night after night, there is undoubtably something there that no one else posesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waterfest was fun, and came to be expensive. I bought Joe new tail lights, but if she asks, they're not new, he's always had them. I don't know about this deception game! HEHEHE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've decided that I do need to live this moment in time for all it's worth. So, I'm actually going to date Kristin, and see what's up with Jackie as well. Now, I know this is not the attitude I should have, but I doubt I'll find anything new and exciting in Jackie. As Paul said today, "She's psycho. She's got real emotion problems. You don't want to deal with that." If this proves to be true, he's right. Still, it's not like I can have what I want, not now at least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, life is good beyond these things. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4678107?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4678107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4678107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_22_archive.html#4678107' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4651742</id><published>2001-07-21T02:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-21T02:35:55.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was a time when Kristin said she didn't think she would die for anyone. Today, or tonight, this morning, whatever, she changed her mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daysleeper 81: Dave's my best friend, I'd die for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That caught me off guard more than anything. Why? Because I know it's true. She's become so mcuh more to me over these last few years, more than just my friend, ex girlfriend, love, whatever. She has become a part of me, one that is somewhat vacant without her voice or presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst part (maybe best!)? I fall harder every time I see her. &lt;br /&gt;Solution? There is none. I can't not see her, she's my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phillies won today, and we were there. It was a lot of fun, and some money, but I did eat a hotdog. That's a rare thing for me. Oh, and they were free tickets, so that rocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, well, I don't know. I'll be off to bed soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4651742?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4651742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4651742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_15_archive.html#4651742' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4601859</id><published>2001-07-18T12:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-18T12:20:48.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was just watching a cheap little movie, and I've come to one inevitable conclusion. I'm an idiot. Please, let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there's this movie, and stop reading if this sounds all too familiar. Guy and girl meet, fall in love and not only move in with eachother, but in the time passing, become eachother's best friends. You know, the one you can fart and burp in front of, or even cry. Anyway, they seem to fight, but it's stupid little things. Really, it's true. The longer you're with someone, the more annoying some of their habits become. Anyway, he decides that he has yet to experience life, as he has only had three other girlfriends but she has dated fourteen guys over her life time. So, he wants to see what's out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They both date, and yeah, they run into eachother with their dates, and try and make it look as though they are wonderfully happy, without a care about one another. So, this goes on for  a while, but she finds someone special, and she thinks she falls in love. Well, her ex lets his emotions get the best of him, comes running back, tells her how much he loves her, and well, she turns him away. I guess they needed to just be friends, but he says he can't because of the way he feels. Needless to say, yeah, they were still friends after that, but he never stoppped loving her. Anyway, in that cheesey movie sort of way, she breaks up with the other guy, and sooner or later, ends up realizing she still loves (Gutter!) her ex. What a happy ending, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumb ass, it's a movie and they'll always get back together. This is not so often in real life. One does not push another girl in the face of someone he knows he loves/wants/needs just to piss her off. Really, I'm not trying to do that, and I know I'm not, but, well, from an outside perspective, this is how it seems. So, I guess there's one more thing I have to look into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still searching for that kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4601859?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4601859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4601859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_15_archive.html#4601859' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4595138</id><published>2001-07-18T02:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-18T02:00:47.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Even though I'm still in some physical pain, today turned out to be a decent day after all. I'll start from the beginning. I called off of work, so, well, it came down to sleeping in till 12! That felt somewhat nice, although, once again, I couldn't wear a shirt. I'm stuck, still, in a grey tank top. Damn I'm not sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.....I did beat Joe at two games of baseball. Nope, we were inactive, but Playstation is a form of excersize I guess. Then, well, Kristin was over, and she found out about Jackie the wrong way. I really need to be open with her, because, well, I always have been. There's no reason for me to stop that all of a sudden, but it's painful. There are some things I don't want her to know, not because I'm upset with myself, but because they may hurt. And the same is true. She tells me everything, and sometimes, her truth hurts. The latest of which is the fact that a friend of mine, who she has a crush on, asked her out. Ten bucks says he won't be able to look me in the face at all. The thing is, I can't blame him at all. She's single, strikingly beautiful, always fun to be with, and well, it's obvious to me that I am jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we did get the chance to talk, and unfortunatley, she did get me to cry, and then called me a pussy. Hey, well, she does it to me sometimes. There's this problem I have when it comes to her. I can't tell her how she makes me feel simply because nothing and no one has ever made me feel that way before, so I don't know the words. What I do know is how she's always there even after I close my eyes at night, and on my mind any time I'm not swamped (that's rare!). No matter how I choose to look at this, I know I love her, whether it be in one form or another. So, well, I have to go out anfd find for myself the women that can't compete with her and maybe finally admit that the search is hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and to clear something up. I missed Kristin, not Jackie this weekend. I may have missed IMing Jackie, but, well, I missed Kristin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still searching for that kiss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4595138?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4595138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4595138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_15_archive.html#4595138' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4581923</id><published>2001-07-17T12:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-17T12:16:47.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, here I sit with a 3rd degree burn all over my shoulders, blisters and all. Damn it hurts. Well, it's my own dumb ass fault. SPF 4 is for people who want to bake, not those of us that just need some color. Oops!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yeah, so I was told that this weekend was my time to think. I guess I did, as well as getting whopped in every game of Pinochle I played. Although I don't eat fish, it is mighty realzing to sit out on a boat and just see what comes up. I caught nothing exciting. My perch, well, was about 3 oz. wet with some weeds attached. Nevertheless, it was a nice time, eh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did give me itme to think, but with no final resolution. Whether or not I expected to come out with one is another thing all together. In the long run, the decision is an easy one, but I'm not the only player, os it makes it a bit harder. Anyway, we'll be having some weird experiences from now till then, of this I am sure. Still, she is so beautiful, she really is. I'm been sure of this for more than 4 years of my life, and nothing is going to change that now, no matter what. I missed talking to Jackie, mostly online, but I missed Kristin, all of her, not just her voice, or her eyes, or even her smile, just her. I realize I was only gone 3 days, but there's more involved than just time. Anyway, yeah, I guess that's about it for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4581923?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4581923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4581923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_15_archive.html#4581923' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4530163</id><published>2001-07-13T21:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-13T21:26:29.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>God she's beautiful................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4530163?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4530163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4530163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4530163' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4525393</id><published>2001-07-13T15:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-13T15:25:18.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I did it. I don't know how I feel, but I did it. Maybe later I'll disclose what "it" is, but right now, let's just share a bit. Hmm.......it felt right and it felt wrong. How old do I sound? Maybe 10! I don't know, I almost feel as though I've betrayed myself. Anyway, I have this weekend to sit back and think about my actions. I'll be in Canada (eh) until Tuesday, tanning, studying, and doing whatever. So, I don't know, I guess that's it. Time for a weekend with grandad, my lil' brother, and, well, dad. Yay capitalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, I really am, and I shouldn't be. I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4525393?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4525393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4525393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4525393' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4508620</id><published>2001-07-12T17:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-12T17:01:03.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well.....all I did so far today was work. Work sucks. Thank God I get to talk to the woman from Northeastern Mutual tomorrow. Maybe she'll offer me a nice job. It's not so much the money these days, as much as the fact that I just want out! Wilma is just too damn pissy for me, and well, I don't get paid enough to work with her. NO ONE GETS PAID ENOUGH TO WORK WITH HER! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Jackie I would call to see if we could do something. I think I may have lied. I don't know, I still feel a bit shady about this whole deal. Once again, I think I need the weekend to think, oh, and study!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristin called this morning. Umm.....I don't know if it was to apologize or to ask to use my computer, but either way, she said she was sorry, so that made my day a whole lot better. I still don't think she understands the affect she has on me. It's not obsession, but I do rely on her, sometimes, to make my life whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4508620?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4508620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4508620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4508620' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4493772</id><published>2001-07-11T21:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-11T21:42:33.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, twice in one day, I don't know what's up with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second half of worked wasn't nearly as bad, but now I know how Kristin feels when she tells me she's doing all the work. God knows what Wilma was up to most of the time. Anyway, I wasn't even scheduled to be back there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, they're engaged. I think it's great, as long as it's a mutual thing from both sides. Love seems to be a good way to live life. I guess I just need to find out what's up with myself before I can go out and find out about someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm....so, I guess that's really it for now. I have nothing more to type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: I was wrong. See, I typed this before I called Kristin. I guess that was an oversight. Really, all I wanted to do was say hi, and yeah, I know she was doing other things, but still, no matter what, she's my best friend. I know things haven't been overly great between us as of late, and no, I can't quite tell why, hence the break (up?!). But, when I want to talk or simply hear her voice, I don't know, I guess she would understand. She does, most likely, but, well, I'm a bit clueless. I feel like every step I take in a somewhat right direction, I get knocked down like twelve steps by something, or someone, else. Hmmm............I do need help, but I don't know who to ask. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4493772?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4493772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4493772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4493772' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4487052</id><published>2001-07-11T14:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-11T14:25:13.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This day couldn't get any worse, and it's only 2:15. Let me share&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) This morning, Freedy pulled some power trip on me and told me that I should always listen to what she says, an no one else. In the short of things, that was it. Wow, Hmm......aren't I the same position as her? Uh, yeah, that would be it. At least we talked and worked things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Customer calls for parts, I direct her to Candie, who, according to management, takes care of these things. Evidently not. She says it's my responsibility and I get all the info I need. I hate conflicting sides of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Roseanne tells me I cannot pass my work onto someone else because it is my job. I explain that it has already been passed down to me from someone else. Well, evidently, she didn't like that from me, so she said it would never be the supervisor's job, but rather, customer service. I tell her, as a supervisor, that this is handed over to me all the time. Nope, she won't take that, so I walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) My prof. finally e-mails me, and guess what, he wants to give me the exam when I'm out of the country. Yeah, that's right. So, I guess I need to work that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Well, the woman I thought I was going to see, or date, or whatever has pretty much changed her mind. Why? Well, she sat down and talked with her friend yesterday, and they decided, together, that it wasn't a good idea. Do I have a history of hurting women? I had no clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My one and only good point to the day? Melissa keeps pinching my ass. Whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4487052?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4487052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4487052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4487052' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4462374</id><published>2001-07-10T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-10T00:32:46.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There's so much to say and no words work. I hope you read this at some point in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grouchy, mean, confusing behaviro revolves only aorund one thing, and it's you. 7/4 was a mistake, but I just don't know how to react when people come to me telling me that the woman I want is interested in someone else. Jealousy, maybe some fear, and some loathing take over. It's not right, though, that I take any of this out on you. These are my problems, and I must work them out. Maybe a weekend in the sun with nothing around will give me a chance to catch up with myself. Needless to say, though, I will miss the sound of your voice, if nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Jackie, maybe 98% wasn't the right number. There are times that I feel as though I did miss out on something by not trying with her. I don't know. Right now, I'd be willing to date and see what happens. And, I think I might just do this. I know it's not what's going to make either of us feel better, but, well, I have to know for sure. As of now, I'm still at that point where everything she does or says I think, "Kristin would have done that better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may hold you high, but you climbed there yourself, and any time, that place is reserved for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, well, I owe you so much more than this. But the thing is, I don't deserve to give it all to you. We both may need time, but I refuse to let go, even if I hang only by a thread. Maybe Ann and company were right, but that's something you have to decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4462374?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4462374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4462374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4462374' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4451994</id><published>2001-07-09T12:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-09T12:39:16.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so there are a few things I don't get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) Why are women more willing to be your friend when you're single? &lt;br /&gt;That may not be the reason, but it seems that things flow better after this fact has been covered, even with old friends. It's hard to explain, but I talked to a female friend till 4 this morning, and just a week ago, we fought over nothing important on the phone. The only difference I can see is that now, well, I guess I am free to date whoever I want. Yeah, wasn't all my decision, so that's all I can say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B) What the hell happens to people in 3 days that can make them seem less than happy? &lt;br /&gt;This one, well, I guess I'll have to figure out on my own, but I was expecting more, and I rarely do such things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C) Why is it that I feel as though everything is going down hill all at once?&lt;br /&gt;First, it was my relationship&lt;br /&gt;Second came my stereo, then the window, and then the check engine light. Now, it's simply time and a trip to Canada in my way. Oh, did I mention that it seems that a new relationship is on the way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I want it? I'm not too sure. I would much rather have the old one back, but what can I do. I was told to date, so I must. More to come. We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4451994?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4451994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4451994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_08_archive.html#4451994' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4407714</id><published>2001-07-06T10:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-06T10:20:51.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>To give up, to die, to walk away, to maintain something. Who knows what the hell I'm talking about. Honestly, I'm not even sure if I do. Life has become a maze in which I can only hit walls. I tend to be one of those ogres that decides to break through the walls rather than discover the route of the maze. Welcome to my life. Right now, I've been hitting my head on the same wall for about 2 weeks now, and nothing has moved. Maybe I should just move on, but, well, I don't know. Once again, if I knew what I was talking about, this would make things easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a job, so for me, next week will be my time to put on a suit and tie and get my ass into interviews. Who knows what I'll find, but I know I need something normal, not this retail junk. I can't stand it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts on women for the day.  Hmm....well, you can tell a lot by the look in their eyes and how close they're willing to come. That would be the extent of my thoughts. Anything more, and I'd get my ass beat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4407714?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4407714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4407714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4407714' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4370673</id><published>2001-07-04T00:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-04T00:17:50.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it's been soime time, again, and I don't know if I have too much to type. I'll admit to one thing. I don't think I'll ever understand women. I have a friend, and that's all she is, who is making our friendship out to be some sort of relationship. Before, when I was offering such things, no interst came about. Now, well, I don't hink she wants to be with me, thank God, but it sure as hell seems as though she is with me, at least when she yells it does. Anyway, I'm not really concerned with that, as if worse comes to worse, I stop talking to her until she becomes a little less nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm....my car is not fixed. I don't know if I said this before, buit someone, last week, decided they wanted my stereo more than I did. So, now I have to wait for the insurance to kick in, and thenm things will be fine. Now, I'm without a window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, well, it exists, and that's about all I'm willing to type at this point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4370673?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4370673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4370673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4370673' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4278528</id><published>2001-06-28T00:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-28T00:40:25.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Find me here &lt;br /&gt;                       Speak to me &lt;br /&gt;                       I want to feel you &lt;br /&gt;                       I need to hear you &lt;br /&gt;                       You are the light &lt;br /&gt;                       That is leading me &lt;br /&gt;                       To the place where &lt;br /&gt;                       I find peace again &lt;br /&gt;                       You are the strength &lt;br /&gt;                       That keeps me walking &lt;br /&gt;                       You are the hope &lt;br /&gt;                       That keeps me trusting &lt;br /&gt;                       You are the life to my soul &lt;br /&gt;                       You are my purpose &lt;br /&gt;                       You are everything &lt;br /&gt;                       And how can I &lt;br /&gt;                       Stand here with you &lt;br /&gt;                       And not be moved by you &lt;br /&gt;                       Would you tell me &lt;br /&gt;                       How could it be &lt;br /&gt;                       Any better than this &lt;br /&gt;                       You calm the storms &lt;br /&gt;                       You give me rest &lt;br /&gt;                       You hold me in your hands &lt;br /&gt;                       You won't let me fall &lt;br /&gt;                       You still my heart &lt;br /&gt;                       And you take my breath away &lt;br /&gt;                       Would you take me in &lt;br /&gt;                       Would you take me deeper now &lt;br /&gt;                       'Cause you're all I want &lt;br /&gt;                       You are all I need &lt;br /&gt;                       You are everything &lt;br /&gt;                       Everything &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm finding my way back to sanity again&lt;br /&gt;though i really don't know what&lt;br /&gt;i am gonna do when i get there&lt;br /&gt;take a breath and hold on tight&lt;br /&gt;spin around one more time&lt;br /&gt;and gracefully fall back to the arms of grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am hanging on every word you say&lt;br /&gt;and even if you don't wanna speak tonight&lt;br /&gt;that's all right,all right with me&lt;br /&gt;cause i want nothing more than to sit&lt;br /&gt;outside heavens door and listen to you breathing&lt;br /&gt;is where i want to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am looking past the shadows&lt;br /&gt;of my mind into the truth and&lt;br /&gt;im trying to identify&lt;br /&gt;the voices in my head&lt;br /&gt;god, which ones you&lt;br /&gt;let me feel one more time&lt;br /&gt;what it feels like to feel&lt;br /&gt;and break these calluses off me&lt;br /&gt;one more time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want a thing from you&lt;br /&gt;bet your tired of me waiting&lt;br /&gt;for the straps to fall&lt;br /&gt;off your table to the ground&lt;br /&gt;i just want to be here now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4278528?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4278528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4278528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_24_archive.html#4278528' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4244898</id><published>2001-06-26T02:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-26T02:01:54.526-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, I had one more thought as you drove away. And no, this is in no way meant to make you feel bad. Here it is. I think the reason I don't tend to attempt to date is because I have this (reasonable, if you think about it) fear that I may make a mistake and not be able to correct it. Sure, things happen for reasons, but not always the right reasons.  And  sure, I know I told you I don't know what I want, and this is true, but if, and this is an IF, I were to be with you for the rest of my life, I can reassure you now, I would be happy. Okay, enough about that. It was good to talk. I had some things on my mind too. I think one of the most important parts was the fact that I have no clue who I am, nor do I like who I've become. And if I don't like myself all too much, I don't know why anyone else would. How does one go about finding one's self? Well, I better figure this out sometime soon, otherwise, I'm afraid Mr. Asshole will come to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, well, I don't like the church service I was at tonight. The worst part of this is the fact that I'm a part of it, not merely in the congregation. It's just not me. I can only really express any sort of spiritual belief in music, and well, not the way this is going. There's already one who has taken charge, but, this is not the army, it's a church gathering, which means there should be no yelling, no anger, but it's ineviatble. It's just not for me, but I don't know how to weasel out of it now. I guess I'll give it one more chance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so, I've already begun to rebuild my stolen stereo. I got the eXcelon 717 headunit, a 10 disc in the rear, and a RF 500.2 amp. 2 PPi 10" will be powered by this beast. Am I missing anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4244898?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4244898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4244898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_24_archive.html#4244898' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4212878</id><published>2001-06-23T22:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-23T22:32:23.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And now I'm depressed. Why? Well, for two reasons. First, and most obvious, is the fact that week after week I tyep out my feelings as though someone else were reading. I'm not writing this out for me, I know what I think. I guess, in about ten years, baring any shut down of Blogger, I'll look back and see what the hell was wrong with me. Oh, and the second reason, I just don't feel whole. There's something missing, and it's mostly her. I know I haven't been lovable nor have even been tolerable at times,  but I am trying. The thing that bothers me is that in her eyes, I see little acceptance, and more distance. Two months ago, I was getting smiles, looks, and just those little things, that even without the words, told me that she was happy to be back with me. Those are the things that made fall for her all over again. I feel bad for anyone who reads this and doesn't know her. You don't know what you're missing. LIke everyone, she has her down days, but, well, even on those days, she makes me happy. And I can't do the same for her, at least not now. She sees things in other people that she doesn't find in me, and it kills me. I want to be the guy I was. Actually I still am, I just took a trip for like 3-4 weeks. I know being friends, well, is better than being nothing, but it's just not how I wish things could be. And I know I can't take her seriously most of the time, so when she says she's that I fell for it, I shouldn't be hurt. The thing is, I am. I didn't fall for some game, I fell for her. Honestly, and straight man would, so now, how am I supposed to react when I finally realize what I have and she's slowly walking away? I hate sleepless nights, and I hate the days I sit there and think of nothing else. For four years, every time I closed my eyes, I see her. Now, I see her everywhere I turn, and I don't want to loose that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, well, I don't know what to do, who to ask, or what I should say. All I know is, I've fallen in love twice, with the same woman, and loosing that once was hard, loosing that twice, well, I don't want to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4212878?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4212878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4212878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_17_archive.html#4212878' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4201371</id><published>2001-06-22T23:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-22T23:32:16.353-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's amazing to me how much you can miss a simple thing like a kiss. But, the truth is, I missed that more than antything. A touch like that always reminds me how incredibly lucky I am. If not that touch, than the fact that even after four years, I still am in awe of how gorgeous Kristin is. Yesterday, she walked into work, and I don't know what it was, but I couldn't even blink. I just stood there as she smiled and walked toward the front. All the while, some poor guy wanted to get by me, and well, was about to run me over. Still, oh my, she's just amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so, well, I admit to the big three. I can't believe it was so hard for me to admit to her that I did love her. I guess it's just another wall, one that I really don't need with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was a sweet simple night. I thought I was off to the movies with some friends, but alas, it was sold out. So, after dinner, I met Kristin at work with a red rose, well, for that love bit, and just told her some things I needed to say. For me, at least, I was rather happy with the evening, albeit short. I just can't get this damn smile to go away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4201371?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4201371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4201371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_17_archive.html#4201371' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4185304</id><published>2001-06-22T00:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-22T00:15:06.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So how, after four years, do you continue to let someone know that you love them? Honestly, I would think that with four years of knowledge and background, this should be easy. The thing is, I doubt myself. I don't know why, but I do. There's this part of me saying, "You're never going to be able to do it, loser." Okay, so I'm not listening to that part, but still, it's quite distracting. I'm almost at a loss. And I've thought. Sure, no one wants to get hurt, but there's nothing to loose if you don't have something to start. In other words, anyone, if you're afraid to get too involved, don't be. There's too much you're missing. This is coming from a man of much experience. Four years ago, I could have passed up, but I didn't. I couldn't. I couldn't get beyond her eyes, and I didn't want to. Even today, I can't get beyond them, and I don't need to. For right now, that's all I know, and I'm fine with that. What I did, well, is quite inexcusable, but I have to prove to her and myself that that guy was not me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4185304?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4185304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4185304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_17_archive.html#4185304' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4135041</id><published>2001-06-19T00:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-19T00:47:53.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's interesting how the littlest things can make you see your faults. I know I have them, and as of late, they have taken over. So why is it that one person's smile can revamp my entire life? It's because I can't bare to loose that. I guess a simple thanks is in order, and she may be the only one to understand that. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one traveled by many, while the other was traveled by only those who went the right path. Luckily enough, I was pulled back before the end. Anyway, I have to revert back to old habits. Some songs makes you smile; others make you cry; and this one, well, it makes me think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, Excuse me while&lt;br /&gt;    I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;    With your thought in my&lt;br /&gt;    mind I feel Alive&lt;br /&gt;    So Alive, I'm Feeling&lt;br /&gt;    Fine, Your Eyes Stand&lt;br /&gt;    Out In My Mind.&lt;br /&gt;    So Alive, I'm Feeling&lt;br /&gt;    Fine, Your Eyes Stand&lt;br /&gt;    Out In My Mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    ---So Beautiful---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Pick me up, Throw me&lt;br /&gt;    down, you've got&lt;br /&gt;    My head feeling dizzy&lt;br /&gt;    I wonder what is next?&lt;br /&gt;    If only my heart spoke out&lt;br /&gt;    loud&lt;br /&gt;    I'd play it over and over&lt;br /&gt;    for you&lt;br /&gt;    So Alive, I'm Feeling&lt;br /&gt;    Fine, Your Eyes Stand&lt;br /&gt;    Out In My Mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The stars they fall around&lt;br /&gt;    me when I think of you&lt;br /&gt;    The seasons change just&lt;br /&gt;    like I, like I would for&lt;br /&gt;    you&lt;br /&gt;    Open up my heart you've&lt;br /&gt;    landed with me so close&lt;br /&gt;    to &lt;br /&gt;    Everything that I, That I&lt;br /&gt;    have always needed&lt;br /&gt;    tonight I'll dream of you&lt;br /&gt;    So Alive, I'm Feeling&lt;br /&gt;    Fine, Your Eyes Stand&lt;br /&gt;    Out In My Mind.&lt;br /&gt;    So Alive, I'm Feeling&lt;br /&gt;    Fine, Your Eyes Stand&lt;br /&gt;    Out In My Mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The stars they fall around&lt;br /&gt;    me when I think of you&lt;br /&gt;    The seasons change just&lt;br /&gt;    like I, like I would for&lt;br /&gt;    you&lt;br /&gt;    Like I would for you...&lt;br /&gt;    The stars they fall around&lt;br /&gt;    me when I think of you&lt;br /&gt;    The seasons change just&lt;br /&gt;    like I, like I would for&lt;br /&gt;    you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with that, it's off to bed, to close my eyes, and see what I may have missed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4135041?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4135041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4135041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_17_archive.html#4135041' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4103908</id><published>2001-06-16T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-16T22:56:27.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, I had the night to think, and the last few weeks, and all I can conclude is that it is really me. She thinks it's partially her, and I guess to some extent that's true, but it's my inability to deal with things that brings her into this. I shouldn't be afraid to loose her. She's right, I never will. I just thought of something. The comments that always get me a bit upset, I know someone else that makes comments like that all the time. Who? My Uncle, the closest thing to a perfect husband, father, and uncle I've ever know to exist. And yes, his wife is gorgeous, and when we're out, even with her, he doesn't neglect to point out other women that may be attractive. Does my Aunt mind? Honestly, I don't know, but I know she doesn't worry. There's a security there. The same is true. I know why I trust her. She's matured, grown, and I don't believe she's capable of that anymore. So, anyway, I got an undeserved second chance, I it's up to me to make the most of it. I have to. I don't know what I would do if I didn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4103908?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4103908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4103908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_10_archive.html#4103908' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-4093370</id><published>2001-06-16T00:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-16T00:59:38.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm scared. Really, for the first time since I was like 5, I'm truly scared. And this time, it's not a young fear, one of horror, but rather, a fear of loss. I'm on the verge of losing someone I never even knew I had. I really didn't know. I know what the title is, and I took advantage of that. The joke turned real. I guess, to some extent, she was arm candy. I know, that sounds horrible, and it is, but I guess I can explain. To love once and loose that love, well, inevitably, it happens to everyone. To have that love back and to loose it yet again, well, I don't know how well I could deal with that. Joe says I have to call him if it happens. He'll have the alcohol waiting. Well, the solution to this is push the love, or whatever, away. What you don't have can't be missed when it's gone. Anyone follow me here? See, I don't, so help me out. How could I be like this? It's not like me, AT ALL. Since when did the stupid car matter more than her? It never did, and it doesn't, but as of late, I treat it much better. My attitude is horrible, and my mouth, well, that's even worse. How can I even look at her when I do these things? I know, 98% of this is all my fault. I will be the first to admit that. However, she knows how I feel, and I may be a bit insecure when it comes to these comments, but, hey, that's me. The scary part? I'm not single! I deserve to be, and I wouldn't put it past her, but she says I need to think. I've been thinking all week. I've been trying to be good, and I don't know what goes wrong. I get jealous, of NOTHING.  Every guy I know comments on how she looks, but she blushes, flirts, but does nothing wrong. And yet, with all these great guys around, she's with me. I wish, someday, she'd tell me why. Hell, I know why I'm with her. I fell for her the first time we kissed, and that was damn funny. Since then, I can't go ten minutes without her popping into my mind. Do you realize that's a minimum of 52560 times a year, for four years? And this is when she's not with me. I don't know what I can do, I don't know what I have done, but I do know that this is not me. It's beyond a simple desire. Kristin is someone I will always need in my life, and I guess I just need to tell her that more often. I haven't been showing how I really feel. Damn walls! I'm so afraid to loose her that I may just do that. Anyway, I ramble, we had this discussion, so now, it's a break of sorts, time for to think. I know what's wrong, and I need to get past the past.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-4093370?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4093370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/4093370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_10_archive.html#4093370' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3915792</id><published>2001-06-04T00:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-04T00:22:59.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been a whilel. I graduated today. What fun. 3 hours of utter boredom. Now I guess I needto get alife, a job, and get into the "real world." That doesn't sound like too much fun. At least I already have two hotties as roommates. There I cannot complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to leanr the guitar today. It was not so good. My finegrs are too fat, although I've been told that's a good thing when it comes to playing. I think they're all lying to me to make me feel better. It's not working. I did, though, learn Bro Hymn, and that's all that matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever realized how boring you are? I did! Finally. I'm the only one that laughs at my jokes, and that's only to humor myself. Most people just laugh at me, but I deserve the torturte. I sing, a lot, and that gets annoying. My girlfriend has started to point out my "gay" and "queer" tendencies, and for the most part, I agree with her. I am just a little weird and overly boring. I'll get over it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm dealing with some pseudo-depressed women online, so I must jet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3915792?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3915792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3915792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_06_03_archive.html#3915792' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3722809</id><published>2001-05-21T00:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-21T00:02:11.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know, there are very few times in my life that I have felt as though I am truly uncomfortable, and none of those times have been with my friends. So, why is it that when I want to say something of importance, the words come out all wrong? I really don't know. I'm not questioning myself, so I know what it is, and well, where it goes from there. So, why? If I knew, I would write a book, and maybe my mother would buy a copy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My damn CD burner hates me. I'm having such a hard time trying to get this thing to burn more than 2 songs on each CD. I'm telling you, it hates me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed practice tonight, I know. I was so dead tired and covered in concrete. Under the drying stone were numerous cuts and scratches, and even one big gash. Stones will do that to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to call Kristin tonight, but I didn't. Truly, though, I have a good, legit excuse. I couldn't. Really. After dinner, I sat down for about five minutes, and then I was asleep. I didn't wake up until the brakes screeching out front made me thing someone had hit my car. Thankfully, nothing was hit, and no one was hurt. I'll talk to her tomorrow, maybe even rent a flick or something. There's one part of me that fears getting too close again, but it's my heart that kicks that part of me in the ass. I want to be close to her. I do trust her, and she doesn't give me any reason as to why I shouldn't. And I know she trusts me, although the whole 2 am deal made her a bit upset. A phone is a phone and words are meaningless unless backed by corresponding actions. Remember this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3722809?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3722809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3722809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_05_20_archive.html#3722809' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3667041</id><published>2001-05-16T23:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-16T23:24:14.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, it's beenover a week since I've posted. Hmm...and I don't even know what to say. Right now I'm listenign to Jackie, or reading Jackie's comments about men again. I wish I could find someone for her. She really is quite a nice one, albeit a bit strange. Hey, everyone has their downfalls. Men have more than most, I tell ya. And let me let you all in on a secret. Call women back if they call. Only an ass lets someone wait for nothing. That was my thought of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, exams are done, and the last paper is in. Oh, books are gone too, to the tune of $24.50. I'm a big spender now. Oh yeah! But, anyway, I'm glad to be out. I don't think another class could have kept me awake. Now, it's the 3rd of June I await, hoping for a short ceremony. Beer and food at my place afterward. I guess if you're reading this, you're invited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm....the eternal search continues for the hammer of great size to present this house for the party. Didn't follow that one? Don't worry, it sounds more exciting than it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad, although I had fun, kept me from Ed tonight. I love that show. At least I know hopeless romantics are still alive, if not only in Hollywood. I am one of them, but not right now. Damn enchiladas ht me hard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...the ring, the birthday, and the inevitable questions. Yeah, my baby turned 20, so I got her a white gold emerald ring with a diamond on each side. It's rather nice, I tell you. Anyway, the question is, "Is that an engagement ring?" Yeah, right, I wish I could get away with that. No, really, I don't. I want it to be nice and more than that. This was more of a, umm......promise ring maybe. In other words, I promise the next ring will be more exciting. So, yeah, I don't know 100% if she's the one I'll be with forever, but I tell you this, it couldn't get much better if she is. Did I mention you're hot honey? HEHEHE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, there's nothing really more to say. I'm going to work on my page, clean my rooms, and get back into my slacker mode before I find a good job. I'll be back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3667041?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3667041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3667041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_05_13_archive.html#3667041' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3544723</id><published>2001-05-08T01:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-08T01:21:39.990-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And it's over! No more classes, no more buying books, and I just need to finish four finals and one final paper. Next Monday night I'll be in heaven. As for now, I sit and wait for the torture to come. First one is Thursday, which means I should start to study tomorrow, which I might actually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, some times it's the simple things in life that make you smile. First, it's just being with that someone. Then, it becomes her maturing before you. Okay, so she washed dishes and cleaned like a stereotypical house wife, but still...... Anyway, and then, well, a surprise, and you can't know. Sorry, it's not even for me, it's just something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go buy her gift tomorrow, and I might add on a movie or something. We'll see. If she reads this, she'll still be clueless. I love it that way.&lt;br /&gt; Time for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3544723?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3544723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3544723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_05_06_archive.html#3544723' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3526794</id><published>2001-05-06T23:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-06T23:30:35.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, right now, I'm being myself again. I have two papers to write, and it's like 11:30, and guess what? Well, both have been started, but neither is finished. I'm about 1/4 way done with one while the other sits waiting for an e-mail that seems to never come. Don't ask, I'm a little pissy about it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I went to work today to work, and I wasn't scheduled. Well, I was, in a way, but I guess I also wasn't. So, I worked for a little while Joey put my 18's on the car (damn I missed them!). Then, I came home in hopes of working on my paper. Well, I took a bath and read the book, then, well, I slacked more. I started about an hour ago and I can't think. I hate feminism and the Bible. Bite me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today I figured out what's better than loving a beautiful, smart, friendly, and almost perfect young woman. I forgot one thing. She can sing. She doesn't need to sing to me, but a nice voice makes me melt. Yuo could barely hear her this morning, but still, I could, and it was a reminder. As for the promises I broke, they were worth breaking. I couldn't smile more if I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 am breakfast tomorrow morning. What fun that will be. Hey, I guess I can't complain. I'm a graduating senior and tomorrow is my last day of class, EVER! Well, it is unless I go back. Still, it feels so good to be done. Now it's time to pay off those loans. YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should get back to the papers now. I hope she e-mailed me or I'll flip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3526794?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3526794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3526794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_05_06_archive.html#3526794' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3511247</id><published>2001-05-05T18:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-05T18:56:06.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Trip to Carlise-$35&lt;br /&gt;Lunch-$3.15&lt;br /&gt;Beer, ice, drink mix, limes-$27&lt;br /&gt;Night with friends and one hot woman, priceless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to steal that one. Well, Carlisle was quick, and we really only hung out with some people and didn't walk too much. Well, I'm not sure if it was worth $10, but it was something to do. I ifnally fixed my subframe, but when it was loose, I didnt' notice how bad I needed an alignment. Now, I know I need one soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is Corona and Margarhittas (spelling?) with Joe and Kristin. Also, chips and salsa. So what if none of us are Mexican, it's time to party a bit. I'm outta here, it's time for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3511247?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3511247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3511247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3511247' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3502955</id><published>2001-05-05T00:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-05T00:57:33.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are promises we make knowing that someday they will be broken. Then why do we make them? Is it to appease our own mind at that time or simply to have some sort of excuse. "But I can't, I promised myself I would't." Then there are promises I know I must keep, to myself, to others, and yet I don't. The promises I keep are the ones I don't make. So, what happens when one betrays himself? Well, I question everything now, not knowing what I will do to myself next. This is no longer the game of smiles and passerbys, but instead, it's a life, and one I promised myself I wouldn't lead. And yet, it's not my mind making these decisions, and no, it's not my dick either. It's that part of me which I have tried so hard to hide, deep within my heart. I don't need "want" nor "desire" all I need is to know where I'm going, and maybe what to bring. Well, this life of simplicity slips away, and I'm a little frightened, for, it seems, it can come back around at a moments notice, and the desire reveals the pain of loss, the agony of defeat, and the end of a new begining. I have no clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and on a more sane note, Happy May 5th!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img SRC="http://vortexrides.clubdub.org/head.gif" ALT="You Spin Me Round"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3502955?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3502955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3502955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3502955' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3495359</id><published>2001-05-04T14:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-04T14:29:15.276-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, that's it. With exception to a final things I have to settle on Monday, I'm done until finals. Whoo hooo. I'm graduating! Now, it's time for the real job, living with a beautiful woman (lucky me, for me, it's [b]2[/b])! As for any reflections, I have a few. First, things were never the same after John left. Come on now, bad deer meat and homemade "soup" are things no one could forget, nevermind 2 am cookie fights and baby powder wars. Yes, we needed help, and in fact, I think they should have burned the place after we left. As for the next year, Mike went psycho, so, well, it could have done more for me. These last two years have gone by so fast I never stopped to realize I'll miss school. I won't miss, however, classes, paperwork, nor $32,000 a year. No sir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To see you when you wake up is a gift I didn't think could be real. To know that you feel the same, as I do, is a three fold eutopian dream. You do something to me that I can't explain. So would I be out of line if I said, "I miss you!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incubus has some decent lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back out of my insane world. I just watched "The Emperor's New Groove" with my nephew, and I must admit, it was funny as hell. I had no clue that I wrote scripts, but it played out like a conversation between the dubbers. Oh, funny stuff. I went into the shower because I was DIRTY. So, Mikey (nephew) decides he'll open the door and yell at me. So, I emptied out a shampoo bottle, filled it with water, and proceeded to drench him every time he opened the door. So much for a deterant. He thought it was great and kept coming back for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MMm......some Victory pizza tonight with a beautiful woman. I can't complain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I talked to Jackie last night, and well, all she wanted to talk about (beyond school) was her lack of a man. Well, no, not really all, but it all centered around that. She really does deserve a good guy, but I have no clue as to where to get one for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, hmm.....................I'm off to work tonight. I'll give a random thought for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, life does not end with death, but ends with a love, one that is lost. Death is just an easy way out, for death rids the mind of the loss. Love is the meaning of life, and these loves keep the heart a beat. Love yourself, love God, love eachother, and relax in knowing that people feel the same way too." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eww....I make myself sick sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3495359?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3495359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3495359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3495359' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3481676</id><published>2001-05-03T13:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-03T13:30:03.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So it's like 1:22 now and I'm going to babble a bit, as always. Finally, I never have to go to another Tuesday/Thursday class again. I have tomorrow then Monday and then I just have to make it through exams. Tomorrow is a group presentation, and some things are coming up. One girl won't be there, another has yet to contact us, and we're two guys stuck talking for twenty minutes or so. Hmm......I think we'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to ad an e-mail link on here so all of you that aren't Kristin can e-mail me if you wish. However, anything strange will be laughed at then disgarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to wash my car today. My girl has inspired me. I even cleaned it out today and found the piece of paper that certifies me as Emily's "Godfather." Hold on, I have to go get some cotton balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, it looks as though we may be adding yet another VW to the family as miss Kristin can spend more than we thought. So, we're going to look sometime soon, most likely when I'm done with school and so is she. I want her to get a Jetta or Cabrio, but whatever she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women in my life have been silent these last few days. I know Jackie doesn't want to chat, so that's fine, but I wonder where Miss Jillian is. Hmm..........I wonder. She needs to start work soon. Oh, yeah, that reminds me, today is payday. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, well, I need to get outside, clean the car, and get a tan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3481676?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3481676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3481676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3481676' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3474613</id><published>2001-05-03T00:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-03T00:24:27.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's 12:15 and I should be in bed. I know, I have class tomorrow, and being the last one ever, I need to go. But, as it seems, I need to share, as always. Anyway, I'll make this quick. School sucked, work was worse, but things got better at around 9:45. I went to Kristin's after work. Right off the bat, DAMN she looked good. I know, if you weren't there, you wouldn't understand. But, there are things I learned tonight. First, there is a part of me that not only wants her but needs her as well. She's no longer just Kristin, but she's become a part of me that helps me to function. Second, I could be single. I know, this is confusing, but I could be. See, I know one thing, and that's this. She will always be with me in one form or another, and I know I could accept life without this form of relationship. Life would go on without me kissing her, but it would not be life as I've grown to love it. FInally, what I learned is that I have not said how much I appreciate her. Yeah, she knows I think she's beautiful, and it was rather tough to point out any faults under pressure this evening, but the thing is, she is so much more to me than just my girlfriend, or just my friend. I have my life, she has hers, but the thing is, we also have our life. And that's the way it should be, basically, because that's the way I like it. I can't imagine life any other way, and for that, I have to thank her. What she sees in me, I'll never know. The fact that she does see something and lets me know; for this I'm forever greatful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3474613?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3474613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3474613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3474613' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3458751</id><published>2001-05-01T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-03T13:22:12.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, my originall outline looks like shit, so we're experimenting with formats. The current one has to go, I know, but give me till tomorrow morning and I'll work on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stress at work is high and my bad jokes are falling on deaf ears. The jobs I'm up for are posted, so it's time to go for it. Uh, I would say wish me luck, but I feel as though I'm settling, which I am to some extent. I know I can do better, but hey, I need work soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's not really much to type tonight. 3 days of class and counting. I'm counting down hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...you know, I miss the sound of her voice. Maybe I'll call her tomorrow night. She doesn't work with me until Friday, and well, I would like to see her. Hmm.....thoughts I'll keep to myself. I'm tired as hell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3458751?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3458751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3458751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3458751' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3443178</id><published>2001-05-01T00:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-01T00:03:49.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so now I know I can never claim to understand women! How does a friend who used to tell you EVERYTHING change in one week? She did. She honestly changed. I'm not even prying, but she shares nothing. I know everything from about a week ago till her birth. Okay, maybe not that much, but you get the idea. So now, after all of the drama, and her claiming she could care less, she acts like this. I wish I didn't care, but I do. For some odd reason, I thought she was one of those friends that I had made a connection with, but I guess not. Anyway, I guess there's nothing to do. I tried, I did. There's only so much effort I'm willing to make. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a better note, work sucks. The auditor is here, and all of a sudden, Jayne yells at me for not doing her job. I know people are under stress, but we all knew that this day was coming, why is no one prepared? Hmmm..........changes may be coming soon! I know that I shouldn't be happy, but things can run much smoother. Anyway, it's not that big of a deal, just some part-time job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else to say? 4 days left till I am done, well, until finals at least. I am ready. one more presentation, one more paper, some easy things, and it's all over.  Senioritis grows as the end nears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I knew what Kristin was talking about with "just words." Yeah, I'm a bit nosey sometimes, but I'm the guy who relies on words to make the world better. Actions work, sure, but usually, it's the words that lead to those actions that affect people the most. So, I use words, to express everything. I write, I sing, sometimes I yell, but that's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm........I don't know about lyrics for the day. Wait, here are some funny ones. As For Me, it's Christian punk. Anyone for a virginity song?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       Once there was a kid named Rex, his girl was pushing&lt;br /&gt;                       him to have 'kid sex'. He knew that it was wrong inside&lt;br /&gt;                       his heart. The next day he went to school, and his friends&lt;br /&gt;                       said sex was cool, but he never had sex and he wasn't&lt;br /&gt;                       about to start. He couldn't help it that he was hot, God&lt;br /&gt;                       made him that way, like it or not. He wanted to make a&lt;br /&gt;                       true committment of love. Based on Job 31:1, he started&lt;br /&gt;                       a club that's cool and fun. That's when he made the virgin&lt;br /&gt;                       club!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              &lt;br /&gt;                       Members of the virgin club, saving ourselves for the ones&lt;br /&gt;                       we love, we are proud to say that we get none!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       So he called himself the president, he knew from God it&lt;br /&gt;                       was sent. Kids from near and far said "hey, that's cool!"&lt;br /&gt;                       The club just grew more and more, tons of kids not&lt;br /&gt;                       looking to score. We don't have a line to go here. Then&lt;br /&gt;                       there came a girl named Sue. Her guy was pushing her&lt;br /&gt;                       to have sex too. She broke up with him and joined the&lt;br /&gt;                       club. After that, Sue met Rex, got together, vowed no&lt;br /&gt;                       sex. A promise to God, a promise made out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       Now the moral of the story: Save yourself, give God the&lt;br /&gt;                       glory. True love waits is what it's all about. Premarital sex&lt;br /&gt;                       is not for us. Being a virgin is a plus. With God's love,&lt;br /&gt;                       there's no need to pout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                &lt;br /&gt;Okay, so it's kinda funny, but love is important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3443178?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3443178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3443178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3443178' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3421606</id><published>2001-04-29T16:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-29T21:14:56.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just got back from practice at church. Oh, did I mention that I have a BAND? Yeah, that's me. I show up thinking it was going to be a group of musicians and a buch of singers. Nope, not even close. One bass, two sets of percussionists, one lead guitar, and one, yes, one front man. Yeah, that's me. Supposedly, I will be lead on most songs, but there will be back up singers sometime. Even though this, for now, is a small, contemporary type band, I've always wanted to do something like this. Honestly, if I could choose one thing to do for a living, I would sing. I'm not bad, really, I'm not. So, I'm looking forward to further practices. Also, I get to bring my own music in. This could be a lot of fun. Tonight was great, and the guys in the group are some of the best. So, wish me luck. I don't need money, I don't need fame, I just need one person to listen, and that I have.&lt;br /&gt;  Oh, and I have to point this out. For some reason, this came up posted at like 4 this afternoon. For all those who care, it's roughly 9:13 at night now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3421606?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3421606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3421606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3421606' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3421602</id><published>2001-04-29T16:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-29T21:00:32.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I did post this about an hour ago, but I have no clue where it went now. So, as much as this server sucks from time to time, I might as well post again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-28&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, well, I woke up late, at 11:30, with my nephew, Mikey, pounding on my back saying, "Uncle David, wake up!" Well, it worked, and he even stole one of my lollipops. What a theif!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to go to work, even though I had off. For one thing, Aimee needed something from me. Anyway, I also wanted to see if I could at least say HI to Jackie. I went over to her, but she ignored me. Did I ever mention how much I hate to be ignored? Well, I do. So, I had to wait for her as she walked out. I walked out with her, and she didn't want to talk. All I got out of it was that she was angry at a lot of things. When I asked if I was one of the problems, I got, "I don't know, are you?" Well, hmmm....anyway, I had bought a froggy for her like 4 weeks ago and finally got around to giving it to her. At least I saw her smile then. Ahh...I told her to go get drunk. What advice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristin and I ate dinner at church with mom and grandma. My grandma needs help. She was introducing Kristin to some people, and she said, "And that's my grandson's friend Kathy." This from the woman who will scratch my eyes out if I don't marry Kristin. Anyway, it was funny, and she caught herself. Oh, the spaghetti rocked, and it was well accompanied by a huge salad bar, dipping breads and oil, and a large dessert selection. Needless to say, I was stuffed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, off to the movies. I was made to see Bridget Jones's Diary. Okay, I admit it, I liked the flick. It was cute, for a chick flick! No, it was good, I promise, and being with Kristin made it even better. It's always nice to get some lovin' every time something sweet happens on the screen. Yup yup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way out of the movies, we saw Jerome, JP, and some other guy (?!?!?!). Well, I don't know if I ever pointed this out before, but we're sure JP isn't, but he thinks he is in love with Kristin. No, seriosuly, these words, somewhat, came from his mouth. Anyway, so, when I saw him, I became the loving, caring man I know I am and made him know how much I wanted her. Okay, all I did was put my arm around her, but well, I think he knows. Oh, Jerome has a woman, kinda. And he graduates this Sunday, like, next week this Sunday. Anyway, I'm jealous. I still have a week of classes to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-29 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, yes, it's Sunday. My kids took over the services, but I was not involved, nor was I asked. Anyway, I won't go into that, but I'm not exactly extatic. The program went well, but it seemed as though it had just been thrown together. Hmm....I wonder why. Well, as long as the kids had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got done cleaning the front porch with mom. It still looks dirty, but I won't tell her that. Then, it'll be dinner time, and time to go back into the rehlms of the church to sing songs that I don't really like. I'll sing anything, but to get me to "sing" I need to feel the music. I guess I'll have to work on that before 6. Hmm....it's Kristin's tennis night, but she may stop by to get her iced tea that's been in my car the last day or two. I'll start drinking it soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, lyrics for the day will be twofold. I'll ahve deviate from punk for some of the best written lyrics ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm finding my way back to sanity again&lt;br /&gt;though i really don't know what&lt;br /&gt;i am gonna do when i get there&lt;br /&gt;take a breath and hold on tight&lt;br /&gt;spin around one more time&lt;br /&gt;and gracefully fall back to the arms of grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am hanging on every word you say&lt;br /&gt;and even if you don't wanna speak tonight&lt;br /&gt;that's all right,all right with me&lt;br /&gt;cause i want nothing more than to sit&lt;br /&gt;outside heavens door and listen to you breathing&lt;br /&gt;is where i want to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am looking past the shadows&lt;br /&gt;of my mind into the truth and&lt;br /&gt;im trying to identify&lt;br /&gt;the voices in my head&lt;br /&gt;god, which ones you&lt;br /&gt;let me feel one more time&lt;br /&gt;what it feels like to feel&lt;br /&gt;and break these calluses off me&lt;br /&gt;one more time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want a thing from you&lt;br /&gt;bet your tired of me waiting&lt;br /&gt;for the straps to fall&lt;br /&gt;off your table to the ground&lt;br /&gt;i just want to be here now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lifehouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've lost all words to say, driving everyone away&lt;br /&gt;    am i really all that bad, or am i going mad?&lt;br /&gt;    i'm a face from yesterday, always in the way&lt;br /&gt;    hiding all my pain, it's driving me insane&lt;br /&gt;    if you feel this way, each and everyday&lt;br /&gt;    there's got to be something more&lt;br /&gt;    you want your life to change, something's got change&lt;br /&gt;    so live for something more&lt;br /&gt;    no one ever calls, you're sick of it all&lt;br /&gt;    your friends don't come around, they all let you down&lt;br /&gt;    what's gotten into you? there's nothing you can do&lt;br /&gt;    to make it all seem right, so why put up a fight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-MxPx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3421602?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3421602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3421602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_29_archive.html#3421602' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3403588</id><published>2001-04-28T00:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-28T00:52:57.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I didn't officially post today, for now it's past 12 and it's actually Saturday. You know what worries me the most? I put a counter on here to confirm my beliefs that only Kristin and I read this. However, with 13 hits down, and only 4 being accounted for, there are those of you out there that, for some reason, like my life. Well, welcome, stay a while, put up your feet, and yell, "Wench, get me a beer!" I hope you like Lager!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent my day in agaony until around 4. First, since Kristin left here at like 1 or so, I got no sleep, and after she left, I was up till 2:30 working on my paper as it was. So, it wasn't finished. During the day, I continued to work, but with little sleep, I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Still, I made it home in one piece, and my last class let out about 10 minutes early. That was a treat. Anyway, back to writing the paper. I finally finished aournd 2:30 this afternoon (Friday) and raced it over to my Prof's desk, as he was on his way out. I just made it in time. Then, it was off to recycle some leaves. I got home aorund 3:10 and went staright to my bed and slept, for about 35 minutes, and then my baby came to see me. We went to look at a Wrangler for her, but the suspension sucked and will need work, so she passed on it! Next, off to iron a shirt for our lovely dinner. Okay, I'm not going to butcher a name here, so just know we went to some Italian place. It was good, but we were stuffed. Off to Old Navy, where all the shorts were on sale except the pair I bought. $24.50 later, and a cute sweatshirt for her, we're on our way for some ice cream. Then, it was back here, watching The Spy Who Shagged Me. Fast forward, because those of us who need to know such events were involved. Anyway, I took her home a little over an hour ago, with nothing to break my smile. She makes me happy, very happy. And to think, I almost passed her up for a chance with disaster. So, we're not all perfect. I never claimed to be. Anyway, now it's off to fiddle with the structure of this again. I don't quite like it still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my family looks out for me like friends our story never ends we've run into the fire&lt;br /&gt;and somehow water comes to save us there are so few we can depend on with blood&lt;br /&gt;there is an honor we behave like we don't care but it's so deep inside chorus it's&lt;br /&gt;more, more than you can see it's thicker than water it means more, so much more to&lt;br /&gt;me it's thicker than water we've all been struggling since i was three how happy can&lt;br /&gt;we be? we've turned some bad times into good always knowing where we stood now&lt;br /&gt;time has led us to the water we get by on h2o but we remember what is stronger&lt;br /&gt;and we let it flow chorus it runs so deep inside my veins through all the heartache&lt;br /&gt;and pain and everything i've come to see it's more than you can see &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-H2O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3403588?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3403588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3403588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3403588' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3389356</id><published>2001-04-27T00:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-27T01:00:00.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know, it seems that no matter how much or how little happens in a day, there are certain things or people that can just make me smile like nothing else. First, we'll start with work. Nat, Jayne, Lori, Aimee, and I (yeah, it took ALL of us) decorated our desk, as it's ugly as hell most days. So, now it looks kinda festive. Still, yellow steel is showing. Ah, what are you gonna do? Anyway, so that was my night, and it was dead there, so things were fine. And, I picked up a $5 tip for making someone laugh. So, the meeting went well, and I got an extra $100 just because Kevin didn't quit yet. That was a bonus. Now I'm off for expensive Italian food tomorrow night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so, yeah, that made me smile, although I stepped all over the desk that I hade just cleaned, so now my feet and their prinst were everywhere. So much for that. Oh, yeah, so back to me smiling. I still am, you know. Why? Well, the most beautiful woman I've ever known just left my house, after holding me, sending numerous chills through my body, talking to me, kissing me (see a pattern here?) and telling me that she adored me. That last one was the winner. I still can't explain why I deserve what she gives me, and I'm not sure if I do, but I won't complain. She makes me smile, and I can't imagine life without her, whether as a friend or anything.  Yeah, that's right, I'm bragging, and I have ever right to do so. Why? Well, she just left, and I have to start and finish a 5 page paper by tomorrow, and I could care less that I didn't get it done while she was here. She's just amazing. Anyway, now, even more, I'm looking forward to being with her tomorrow night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.....Psalm 22. Any help would be appreciated. Not that I don't know what I'm talking about, but rather, I don't know how to stretch it to 5 pages. I guess I'll figure that one out soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, weird thing. I went to TJ Maxx for some shorts (CK, $16.99! Sweet!) and my ex-girlfriend works there. So, I remember her from HS, as senior year rolled in, and we had broken up like a year before, she saw me, and kinda got that "wow, nice" look on her face. Three days later, she asked me to prom. I had to turn her down, for I had a date (yeah, and it wasn't Kristin, but still, I went with her. Go figure) So, enter today. I see her, and that same look comes back. Her friend (coworker) asks if I'm going to the party on Saturday. Hmm....she blushed, giggles, and looks as me weird. OKay, so I have to end this soon. "So, how's the boyfriend?" Well, she and Brian broke up, but it was my inside shot. "Really? That sucks. Can you believe I'm with the same girl I took to prom?" OOoooooohhhhh......she was down for the count. After that, it was blah. She showed me her new car, and I was on my way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything else right now? Nope. I think I'll procrastinate a little more and try to change my template a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;won't be another statistic... won't be a minority... i'll achieve every goal i have...&lt;br /&gt;there's not a thing that i can't be! just as long as i am happy, that's all that matters to&lt;br /&gt;me. i'll walk away from this place on that unhappy day that i have to follow rules,&lt;br /&gt;this so-called book you go by was written for a fool! maybe now you understand life&lt;br /&gt;from my point of view, i've got my head on straight and have no urge to be like ì you!&lt;br /&gt;oh sure i strive for a better life. but, is that so fucking wrong??? change in my&lt;br /&gt;pocket... girl by my side... perfectly happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ataris&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3389356?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3389356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3389356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3389356' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3372326</id><published>2001-04-25T23:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-25T23:06:31.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did you ever notice how sometimes you just seem to fall back into situations like you were never away from them? Really, I do. Right now, it's more apparent than ever. This thing with Kristin (thing being my life) seems as though it never ended, but rather, it was just a long break. Okay, so in all honesty, it was a break up, which was cool with both of us, but it does feel as though nothing has changed. So, why am I concerned? Because, things have changed, namely her, for the better. She's become so much more of what I want, so mature, so beautiful, and yet, she's still the same girl I fell in love with four years ago. The thing is, though, I feel as though I need to change my attitude toward her. This isn't just me dating her it seems. This is our life, a fresh start, a new beginning, yet at the same time, a continuation of what was great before. Why do I babble? God knows. I just need to vent. I love this new person she's become, and I  want to do anything for her, so I guess I'll work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My exam went well, and I did not study. I couldn't bring myself to open the book. The only thing I wouldn't have known was the year of the Hetch Hetchy incident, but right before the blue books were handed out, the kid next to me, Mike, said all he needed to know for the exam was 1906. Bingo, that's all I needed to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have already made the decision to miss my first class tomorrow. I'm not in the mood for IR, and I need to work on a report due Friday by 3. Hmmmmm.....what do I know about Psalm 22? Some things, but not enough. I guess I just need to look harder. Oh, this is the class that is now finalizing in an oral exam. bring on the bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird! Jackie said hi on AIM, then left, and has yet to return. Maybe she's busy, or maybe she's afraid I'll make her cry again. Either way, I'll talk to her later. She'll be home this weekend. Funny thing? I don't think I care that much. Sometimes it's weird how things change so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I got my wallet today. It's so cool, and real carbon fiber. It feels sleek! I know, you're all jealous of me. HAHAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, gotta research a bit. Here are some lyrics to get you through the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sat and thought the other day how it seems strange that we could walk through life&lt;br /&gt;so blind and how a lot of people never change. i'm not trying to say i have the&lt;br /&gt;answer all i know for sure is that we weren't put here to serve ourselves, that's so&lt;br /&gt;selfish to think that we're put on this earth just for pleasure i know that there's&lt;br /&gt;much more than that. but i won't tell you what it is; it's up to you to decide for&lt;br /&gt;yourself what is wrong and what is right and know that we all make mistakes, there's&lt;br /&gt;always time to turn your life around and change all the wrong decisions that you've&lt;br /&gt;made. and i promise that i won't settle for less. i won't write it off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ataris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3372326?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3372326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3372326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3372326' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3361807</id><published>2001-04-25T09:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-25T22:11:08.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so I've made a decision. I'm not going to study for my exam I have next period! I don't need to. I rock in this class. My academic ego is taking over now. Oh, yeah, and I'm one of like 3 people that actually reads the assignments and participates in class discussions. Also, I'm skipping my last class? Why? Well, I only had three quarters for the meter, and that would put me into my 4th hour, so, I have to leave or find another space. I think I'll just leave. I can use the time to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some odd reason, this morning, my alarm went off at 7:25. I don't know why. When I looked at the settings, one was 6:15 and the other was 6:32. I can't explain why it went off after 7 o'clock. Either way you look at it, though, I was running late, hence the need for me to pay to park. Usually I'm able to find a good space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I finally broke down and called Jackie last night. It wasn't that big of a deal, but I thought she might yell at me. Hell, Bonnie yelled at me and hit me when she found out that I hadn't told her yet. Anyway, the fact is she knew it was coming. At least this is what she tells me. I guess everyone knew it was coming, with exception to me. Anyway, so like a nice guy, (yeah, right) I decided that it was time for me to tell her what I knew. Yeah, she needs to be with Nate. So, I might have made her cry, she broke down a bit. We talked till 12:30 and the best part is, I didn't feel an empty feeling when she talked about other guys, I didn't feel anything but the need to try and help her. Good stuff! So, the verdict is in. She's still a great looking woman, and yeah, she still is quite attractive, but I know who I want and what I want and it's not her. Oh, if you didn't figure this out, it's you honey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's like 9:53 now and I'm not done typing yet. I also got a chance to talk to Julie last night, but not for long. She was a bit extactic. Hmmm.......honestly, I don't know why. Oh, and I talked to Heidi a bit too. 4/24, that was her B-day, and now she's 19. Awww......my little girl is growing up. *sniffle sniffle*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I work tonight. This should be fun. Last night, everyone and their mother called off, so when it got busy I actually had to work. Poor me. beyond that, Pat was damn funny. Also, reading Mademoiselle (don't ask) I found out that my body's age is 19.25. So, it's a bit behind me, as I'm 21. At least I'm not Wilma. She was like 52, and she's only 40 something now. She was pissed. Wait till she finds out that she's going to have a little talk with the managers because of me. She hates me enough as it is, depending on the day of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, gotta jet. Oh, oral exam takes over for written, extra extra, read all about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3361807?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3361807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3361807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3361807' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3347758</id><published>2001-04-24T12:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-24T12:55:00.646-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>3 hours on China went well. Actually, it was only 2.5 hours, because at 5 the pizza man showed up and we snacked. Anyway, tow more things to go this week, along with a full time job, it seems. Life is going well, though. I can't complain. Every once in a while, all it takes it a smile from someone special to make you feel better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, damn it's warm here. The worst part is I can't wear shorts to work until Memorial Day. I'm sweating up a storm here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and this is simply proof that, honey, I didn't have to think long and hard about the decision I've made. The thing is, I was thinking about it long before I ever knew your side. No matter how hard I tried to get you out of my head, my heart wouldn't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was written the first week in April 2001.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearing the end&lt;br /&gt;Going back to where it all &lt;br /&gt;started&lt;br /&gt;and it comes back to&lt;br /&gt;four years&lt;br /&gt;simplicity is the &lt;br /&gt;key&lt;br /&gt;interaction&lt;br /&gt;it continues&lt;br /&gt;and improves&lt;br /&gt;the soul opens&lt;br /&gt;the mind deadens&lt;br /&gt;the heart continues&lt;br /&gt;and the end is near&lt;br /&gt;so it begins&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3347758?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3347758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3347758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3347758' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3329630</id><published>2001-04-23T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-23T09:37:15.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And now it's come down to what some might call hell week. Today is the China population discussion, three hours of boredom personified. On Wednesday, I have my final nonfinal exam here at Lehigh in Arts 98. Last time I didn't study, I got an 85. Maybe I should put more effort into this one. I almost have all A's, but I know I do have one low B. We'll see what we can do about that. Oh, and then, on Friday, it's paper time again. I have to write a paper analyzing Psalm 22 for Religion. That one I know I can pull out of my ass on Thursday night if need be. Right now, even a few hours before hand, I'm still looking for info on China. I think I'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, wow, it's the 23rd. Well, good-bye single life hello commitment. Trust me, I'm not complaining here. It was fun being alone, and somewhat cheaper, but I love to be needed. It does a number on my ego especially when it's Kristin. So, hi, my name is Dave, and I have to cut back on my flirting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was craving a milkshake, but Joe said no. Bastard! No, really, I wanted to make one with cookie dough ice cream and some good old rum. I didn't leave his place till like one. We were changing gear ratios to get a car into the low 8's. Yeah, that's right, all night working on the tranny. What? What color's the sky? Is that the thing with legs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry. If you don't get that joke, it's alright. And if your's is grape, kick yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to lie and call out from work today! I hate to do that, but it's necessary. Why? From 4-7 I have this China thing, and I requested off, explained it all, and yet, I'm scheduled. I'm sorry, this is 35% of my grade So it seems, all of a sudden, I'm not feeling so well. *cough*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My damn punk lyrics site hasn't been up and running as of late. Otherwise, I would post some good thoughts for the day. Hold on......I'll check my bag for a poem or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From day to day&lt;br /&gt;comes a different shade&lt;br /&gt;from black&lt;br /&gt;to grey&lt;br /&gt;to blue&lt;br /&gt;sometimes pink&lt;br /&gt;The feelings&lt;br /&gt;differ, yet are the same&lt;br /&gt;hidden below&lt;br /&gt;unseen is unknown&lt;br /&gt;and life is&lt;br /&gt;better, for now&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll &lt;br /&gt;be &lt;br /&gt;orange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a strange mind, I know. I'm not depressed in any way, but sometimes, words just flow and sound slightly psychotic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3329630?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3329630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3329630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3329630' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3329624</id><published>2001-04-23T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-23T09:37:52.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And now it's coe down to what some might call hell week. Today is the China population discussion, three hours of boredom personified. On Wednesday, I have my final nonfinal exam here at Lehigh in Arts 98. Last time I didn't study, I got an 85. Maybe I should put more effort into this one. I almost have all A's, but I know I do have one low B. We'll see what we can do about that. Oh, and then, on Friday, it's paper time again. I have to write a paper analyzing Psalm 22 for Religion. That one I know I can pull out of my ass on Thursday night if need be. Right now, even a few hours before hand, I'm still looking for info on China. I think I'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, wow, it's the 23rd. Well, good-bye single life hello commitment. Trust me, I'm not complaining here. It was fun being alone, and somewhat cheaper, but I love to be needed. It does a number on my ego especially when it's Kristin. So, hi, my name is Dave, and I have to cut back on my flirting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was craving a milkshake, but Joe said no. Bastard! No, really, I wanted to make one with cookie dough ice cream and some good old rum. I didn't leave his place till like one. We were changing gear ratios to get a car into the low 8's. Yeah, that's right, all night working on the tranny. What? What color's the sky? Is that the thing with legs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry. If you don't get that joke, it's alright. And if your's is grape, kick yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to lie and call out from work today! I hate to do that, but it's necessary. Why? From 4-7 I have this China thing, and I requested off, explained it all, and yet, I'm scheduled. I'm sorry, this is 35% of my grade So it seems, all of a sudden, I'm not feeling so well. *cough*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My damn punk lyrics site hasn't been up and running as of late. Otherwise, I would post some good thoughts for the day. Hold on......I'll check my bag for a poem or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From day to day&lt;br /&gt;comes a different shade&lt;br /&gt;from black&lt;br /&gt;to grey&lt;br /&gt;to blue&lt;br /&gt;sometimes pink&lt;br /&gt;The feelings&lt;br /&gt;differ, yet are the same&lt;br /&gt;hidden below&lt;br /&gt;unseen is unknown&lt;br /&gt;and life is&lt;br /&gt;better, for now&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll &lt;br /&gt;be &lt;br /&gt;orange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a strange mind, I know. I'm not depressed in any way, but sometimes, words just flow and sound slightly psychotic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3329624?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3329624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3329624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3329624' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3321875</id><published>2001-04-22T19:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-23T09:20:13.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nothing much to type tonight, but I need to put off my long awaited trip to the library. Tomorrow is a 3 hour long talk on China and its population growth. What fun. I'll be on my way soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work sucked. I had to spend my evening with hole punch in hand, bored off my ass. The only bright spots were talking on the walkie talkies and a kiss good-bye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what I bought today! A carbon fiber wallet is on its way. Yeah, so I know I'm a bit sick in the head, but  I did need a new wallet. Also, I picked up the Ataris CD, Blue Skys............., tonight. It's good. Also, I was told that Expo rocks. It just so happens I work with one of the kids in the group, so for $5, the CD is on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristin is out playing tennis with some friends. She's a bit weird today. It seems someone has a bit of a crush on her, and it's not just me. Our choir director, whom I thought was GAY, is not. He was caught drooling over her legs today. Now she's threatening to leave me for him. Nah, that's just a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner just filled me, so I'm going to rest a bit now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3321875?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3321875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3321875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3321875' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3312941</id><published>2001-04-22T01:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-22T19:33:50.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I figured out that I just type to appease myself. If you read this and your name isn't Kristin, I'm impressed, and slighly worried. Anyway, what else I realized today is how incredibly happy I am. No, seriously, I am. I was a little hesitant to go so far so quick, to admit that I could give up a dream for the ultimate reality, but the thing is, I didn't give up a dream. My dream has been the same ever since April 23th, 1997. Somehow, though, things got cloudy, and that's cool. Dreams can change, the faces, they change, but the realities remain the same. This is my reality, holding my arm, kissing my cheek, smiling at me, looking at me with the most beautiful eyes, and, somehow, remaining a friend as well. So, for that, I'm overly greatful. I'm not much of a mushy guy, but it seems I can be when provoked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides this little interlude, I hate people. Not all people, mind you, but only those that pose stupid questions to me. You know the old saying "There are no stupid question?" Well, obviously this person never had to deal with people asking if they can try the air conditioner out in a building that has no windows. In order for this night to be a success, my arm had to be one place, my face another, my left hnad at a seperate counter, and finally me mind at the desk. Did it work? Uhhhh.....nope. I can deal with stress and usually perform pretty well under pressure, but I cannot deal with utter stupidity. Sorry......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and did I mention there is a gay man in love with my girlfriend? Nah, j/k!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3312941?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3312941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3312941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_22_archive.html#3312941' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3304695</id><published>2001-04-21T12:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-21T12:10:12.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I need to recommend someting to you all. Samual Adams Spring Ale. Oh, did I mention that I love my beers? I'm a beer geek. You all wait outside a ball park looking for the pitcher's autograph. Well, I'm outside restaurants and breweries waiting for the great brewmasters to exit, hoping for their John Hancock. Okay, maybe not. Anyway, it's a greay beer, and my girlfriend thinks it has a peanut aftertaste. Hmm.....okay dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, nope, I forgot, I'm single till Monday. Yep, you heard me right. Why? Well, when we first started dating, 4 years ago, I asked her out on April 23rd. She wants to wait till then to make it official. Works for me, I don't have to remember a new date. Most likley, if it comes down to it, that will be a wedding date to, but I don't want to push things too far right now. I'm just happy I have her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to work in less than an hour, and I just got up. Finally I slept. Maybe the beer helped. I'm in boxers, typing on here, listening to the water drip, and I'm getting hungry. That means I must cut this session short. Yeah yeah, cry all you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3304695?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3304695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3304695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3304695' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3289382</id><published>2001-04-20T09:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-20T09:50:09.256-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it seems some things never quite change. In the end, I have to admit, I'm all in for the lobster type reality of life. The thing is, although I was rather sure that I professed my desires about 10 hours ago, reading her Blog (hehehe, this gives me an inside line!) makes it seem as though she either doesn't wuite believe me or she's going along with my April 23rd joke. Either way you look at, lack of sleep and a lot of thought makes one realize what's good in the world. Now becomes the past, but always never changes. So maybe it was a quick decision on my part, but it's the right one, and it wasn't that hard to make in the long run. I know what I'm in for, I know what I've been missing, and I know what I want. So, I sound rather stable, right? Someone reassure me here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, my contact is killing me. I want to take it out, but I'm in the library at school and it seems as though that's not going to happen right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to serve in a 3 hour discussion dealing with the population growth of China! Wow, what a bore that will be. I think I'll bring my pillow. Well, truth be known, I can't. This is like 30% of my final grade, so out come the bull shit meter. Whoo hoo. I can talk for hours and sound intelligent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class sucks, but I have to go. Tonight is beer night, and maybe I'll get Kristin to join Joe and I for a while. Who knows. Work, beer, and sleep. What a progression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3289382?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3289382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3289382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3289382' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3278192</id><published>2001-04-19T15:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-19T15:59:25.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You had to see the look on the face of the guy who worked at the music store I just left. Wow, what a sentence. Anyway, here's me, Mr. Preppy boy, or as some people call me, Pretty Boy, buying an H2O Cd. So what, I like punk. I just don't like the look, so I chose to fill in my own likes, with some Polo, Banana Republic, TH, and so on. Anyway, Thicker Than Water is a really good cd and I wanted my own copy. Well, it was funny. I didn't get the CD I wanted, and I wasn't about to ask them if they had it for fear he would laugh as to why I would want the Ataris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so, I don't work today. In about an hour I'm going to an economics talk with the old President of the Citadel. I'm scared. Nah, as I understand it, he's a great speaker. I guess I'm almost looking forward to it, to some extent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been a little brighter and warmer since I figured out parts of my life. Sad part? Now it's my mouth that's going down hill. I've never had a cavity, that is until today. 5! What the hell? 5? Very small, but still, I brush and floss and all. I have no clue, but I'm depressed over it all. And I need to get my wisdom teeth pulled although they're coming in quite nicely. Something about pockets, who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, 19 people responded to my preppy punk topic on the 'Tex. I'm impressed. I wonder what they all had to say. I'm sure Paul was making fun of me. My life is all his fault, with acception to Kristin. That's just my good luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 days and I have yet to discuss things with Jackie. I don't think she'll care, and I'm beginning to care less and less. I know she belongs with Nate, and he is a good guy. Now if she would only admit to something with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Kristin is at work now, and I'm sure I'll end up there by the end of the night. Maybe she'll want to come over, who knows. I'm a bit gitty, which isn't like me. I guess it's nice to have part of life figured out.  Oh, did I mention that Kristin is not only great, she sings, she has the most beautiful eyes, is rather intelligent, and puts up with most of my shit. Oh, and she's HOT! HEHEHE. She'll love that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave you with some parting words from some guy named Toby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hear what i'm saying i was always true i was never playing when it came to you&lt;br /&gt;never good at showing what you mean to me here's my last chance to set my mind at&lt;br /&gt;ease  and all the times you slipped between the cracks disguised as something&lt;br /&gt;sacred never knowing that i wanted to hold you in my arms, protect you never let&lt;br /&gt;the world upset you handing my life over to you i was always running searching for&lt;br /&gt;excuses not to be together now the chase is over, with this ring on your finger this&lt;br /&gt;will be forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-H2O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3278192?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3278192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3278192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3278192' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3268854</id><published>2001-04-19T00:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-19T00:18:36.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I finally get to chat with Erica and Paul. He called me honey again, I'm scared. Now he's going to bed. I miss them, together that is. I do miss her, but we'll be at the bars in no time. Why I'm typing, I don't know. Beyond this, I have nothing else to say. Oh, yogurt in a tube is a good idea, but ice cream cake in a bag sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3268854?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3268854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3268854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3268854' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3261866</id><published>2001-04-18T15:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-18T15:43:42.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmmm..........it's been quite a day. I had to skip class and see a video on how to properly repay a loan. Ten years to repay $5k? What the hell are these people smoking? I feel bad for those people who cannot make this date. They must be the art majors. As it is, that should take 2 years only because I slack and like to spend some dough on the car as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, behind my relationships woes stands a love of my Dubs, or VW's for those who are confused. I work on anything VW as long as it's an H2O cooler. My back room has become a parts closet for the summer unveiling. I'm still waiting for a few things, namely my CF hood, a Deitrich front bumper, and my cup mirrors. Look out Waterfest. Worst part? I have to compete against Dan if I have my turbo in by then, and he's much further in work than I am. Who knows. I don't need some trophy to tell me my car rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the love life, well, hmmm.......at this point I don't know what to say. I was there last night, if you read, and now I haven't slept well in the last 2 or 3 days, so I'm seeking an end to this simply to hit the pillow. Okay, not simply for that reason, but it will be a plus. Well, I think I'll talk to the other one tonight, whether on the phone or by computer, but I know we need to talk. Sometimes feelings are so strong that they cannot be overlooked, not even by me. So, I guess, in order to settle my life, I need to talk to her about what's going on. Funny thing is, she's just my friend and has to put up with my extra feelings for some time now. What she feels, I don't know, truly. I have an idea, which is alright with me. It will makes things a little easier if she doesn't agree with my heart. The two roads diverged and I intitially took the road divereged, but the good thing is the fact that I could turn around. Now, it seems I'm stuck at the intersection again, leading down my path toward tomorrow, and forever, the path back to the only person I've ever really loved. Since the days of us meeting as friends to the days of me typing my thoughts out for anyone to read, I have loved my best friend, and no, I don't mean Joe, Jon, Matt, or even my newfound one, Jackie, but rather, Kristin. I do love you, and I always will. So, now it's just a matter of clearing up things in my head so that finally my head and heart can agree on one thing, not two things. I'm lucky that I have a list of morals, otherwise I would fuck three people over. Anyway, I realize she reads this often, so, well, here goes nothing. You know what I want, you know what you want, and finally, we'll meet half way. I know which path to take, I'm just picnicing at the entrance right now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3261866?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3261866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3261866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3261866' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3253265</id><published>2001-04-18T01:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-18T15:42:30.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Technically,i t's 4/18 now, and I know, I should be asleep, but I've just made my life a little more pleasant, if not more simple. It's the finer things in life that have convinced me how much I donot deserve what I am given. Case in point: My best friend, previously know as "always" is the most gorgeous women I know, and I can say that I am the luckiest man for one reason. I have spent my last 4 years loving this girl, although we have no been together. She is the one who's always been there, the one I can count on to make me smile no matter what the situation. So, it is fitting, that she is the one that makes my mind change, makes my heart miss a beat, and makes my eyes water. We spent a few hours together tonight, talking..............anyway......So now it is my choice, my decision to make, to prevent a loss I'm not about to risk. In life, we must decide if certain flings are worth what we believe them to be worth if they can affect the rest of your lives. There is no doubt in my mind that my "now" will forever be important to me. She's a beautiful, intelligent young woman, who can also make me smile. So, now I need to discover for myself what real love is, what it means to be with that one, what it means to have that one, to cherish her, to feel her close, again. Give me time, I know I'll come around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3253265?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3253265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3253265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3253265' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3006771.post-3242229</id><published>2001-04-17T11:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-17T11:49:57.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it's April 17th, and my life is slowly spirling toward a region I cannot explain. Why do you ask? Well, if you want to know, read on, but first, I have to quote what my life has become. The more I think, love, and open my life and heart up to those around me, the more the punk means. So, for all you Ataris fans out there, realize that no matter when written or who it was orignally about, this song is my messed up life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really wanna call you, but i know that it's not right. i probably shouldn't tell you but&lt;br /&gt;i dreamed of you last night. i guess i'm not prepared to say... goodbye, so long,&lt;br /&gt;farewell, i won't be seeing you again until next time that he goes away. you told me&lt;br /&gt;that you loved me, i started tearing down those walls. i really started to trust you&lt;br /&gt;but you set me up to take the fall. i guess i'm not prepared to say... goodbye, so long,&lt;br /&gt;farewell, i won't be seeing you again until next time that he goes away. i guess that&lt;br /&gt;i'm wrong for falling in love, but you're still the one that i'm dreaming of. i guess that&lt;br /&gt;it's you i want to hold onto, but you're holding onto someone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact is, that this does not fully fit my life. See, I'm not in love, and no, there's no one else in the way  but myself. So, enter the players that have prevented my from sleeping these last few nights. We'll refer to one as the now and another as always. Someday, maybe, you'll understand. I have been in love, I was in love with the most beautiful woman I ever knew for 4 years of my life, of which, only 2 or so were returned. So, finally, I found a way out of always. I found my escape, my now, all along knowing that always would come around again someday, enhabiting that space in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, heres the deal. Now has become one of my greatest friends in a short amount of time, and to be perfectly honest, I fell, and I fell hard. I hate this, I've lost control. It's not like me at all. I've always had the ability to ignore my feelings and walk on without a hitch. With her, I can't just walk by. It's something in those eyes, in her smile, in the way she looks at me. So, yeah, my life should be fine, right? Nope, see, it's not that easy. I've become her friend, someone she trusts, which pushes away any hope of ever actually being with her, or at least that's how it seems. Yet, she still continues to push me, to look at me like that, like only one person has ever looked at me. So, I drag on, trying to rid myself of this want, but it's not going to be easy, and now I'll continue to explain why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always. She really is my always, for no matter what, I will always love her. I do now, but it's not the same. So, here she comes, with love in her eyes, and thanks to me, pain in her heart. See, she wants something new, something different, but still me. She wants to try again, and now I feel it's a little late. Why? Because my life has been empty without her by my side for about 2 years now, as our friendship, no matter how great, has never filled that void. Well, "nbow" has filled that void, for the moment. But my always fell hard, just at the wrong time. I can't bare to tell her that, though. What I do know is that in 2 months I will fall for my always again, and by then, it will be too late. So, I can't control my feelings, and my heart and my mind fight over which way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth be told.......I don't deserve either of these two women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So......what a way to start my blog. Life has thrown me a few curves in the past, but these days, I'm getting hit time after time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3006771-3242229?l=red_mkiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3242229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3006771/posts/default/3242229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://red_mkiv.blogspot.com/2001_04_15_archive.html#3242229' title=''/><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08846413863171702379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
